Justice
by DarknessIsTheUniverse
Summary: Hotch goes off the deep end after his wife s death. Reid tries to help and gets himself and Morgan abducted by an UnSub who is no stranger to them.    pre-slash M/R   FINAL CHAPTER UP!
1. Blood

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.  
-Paul Gauguin

* * *

_It was only when he felt the blood on his knuckles that he felt relief. _

_After having died to catch his breath for what seemed like an eternity, he found it easiest to breathe just as the life left the mangled body beneath him. _

_His fists slammed against an already broken skull once, twice more, until he finally felt peace, a brief episode of respite before hell would claim him again in the morning. _

_It always did ever since that dreadful day. It never failed to pull him under, a little bit further each day. He didn't know how long he would be able to hide it anymore, but right now he didn't care. Right now it was night and he had avenged their suffering. It wasn't nearly enough to make up for what he had done, he knew that. _

_He belonged in hell. But he couldn't go there without taking those monsters with him._

_Slowly he got up and left the alley, leaving the body behind without another glance. His hands were still dripping blood but he didn't bother trying to wipe it off; it was on his hands, now and forever and nothing he did would change that._

_Out on the dark street corner, he took a deep breath before hurrying home, knowing well that it was only a brief quiet before the next storm._

Jennifer Jareau walked into the BAU´s main office with hurried steps, a thick folder in her arms.

"Guys, we´ve got a case.", she alerted the other team members, urging them to follow her into the conference room.

Spencer Reid put aside an older case file he´d been reviewing and got out of his chair. He watched the others following JJ one by one, except for one person.

"Hey, have you seen Hotch yet?", he asked slightly concerned by the repeated absence of their former unit chief. He was officially back at work after the murder of his wife, but he had been missing meetings a lot lately.

Both Morgan and Rossi hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

"He didn't come in this morning.", Rossi said.

Reid´s brow furrowed further: "That's not like him. Should we worry? Call him maybe?"

"I don't think you need to.", Morgan declined, patting Reid´s shoulder reassuringly for a moment. His voice was light but his eyes had the same barely hidden expression they all got these days when talking about Hotch. Because they knew it but didn't say that it _was_ like Hotch. At least ever since the reaper had set his goal on making his life a living hell.

Now, with Foyet dead, and Hotch refusing to let them treat him any differently than before, it was easy to forget that his emotional wounds would still be far from healed. No one talked about it openly but they were all worried.

"He probably didn't want to leave, Jack.", Morgan concluded: "We should give him some time; we can always brief him later."

Rossi seemed content with that and left the two men to join the rest of the team.

Reid nodded slowly, looking over to the entrance once more as if hoping Hotch would appear out of thin air. Knowing that one of them was in pain and wouldn't accept help was gnawing at him.

"You´re probably right.", he agreed distractedly, only looking up when Morgan´s grip on his shoulder tightened briefly.

"Hey.", the black agent gave him an empathetic smile, obviously trying to ease his worries: "Don't worry your head off, pretty boy. Hotch knows he can talk to all of us at any time. Let´s give him some space."

Reid returned the smile and nodded thankfully, feeling a little more confident that Morgan was right.

They entered the conference room last, and JJ didn't waste any more time discussing the case. She pulled up several images on the screen on the wall, causing all of them to grimace.

"We have five victims so far, they all lived and died around the area of Quantico, none of them more than thirty miles from here.", JJ explained: "They´re all Caucasian males around the ages of thirty to forty. They were found in remote areas of the city, mostly around the projects; no one saw anything. We are assuming they crossed paths with the UnSub who attacked and killed them on the spot, leaving three days between each victim. C.O.D is blunt force trauma to the head and upper torso."

"That's a lot of blood.", Prentiss interjected, wrinkling her nose while pointing at the pictures: "What kind of weapon was used?"

"They were all shot once, nothing fatal though. Most of the injuries are caused by repeated blows with bare hands."

Prentiss grimaced at that, clearly appalled by that amount of ruthlessness. "Had to ask.", she murmured to herself.

"So he disables them, so they can´t escape, then he beats them to death?", Morgan concluded: "That takes a lot of built up rage and very little inhibition. Could the UnSub be personally motivated, I mean, did he hold a grudge against the men?"

"Already on it, cupcake.", Garcia´s voice chirped from the laptop on the table: "I´m cross-referencing the victims to see if there is any connection, or if they might have angered someone in particular. Also, I´m checking if they are connected in any other way, socially as well as geographically. Give me an hour to work my magic."

"Thanks, baby girl.", Morgan smiled before turning his attention back to the others: "Looks, like we don't have to go anywhere this time, the case is coming to us for a change. Alright, JJ, make sure the press stays out of this for now until we whip up a profile. Prentiss and I are gonna go look at the last dump site, Reid and Rossi you take the first; see if that victim might have also been the stressor. Let´s hope we really have two more days before the next victim."

They all got up, leaving the office in pairs while JJ got on the phone immediately.

Reid waited patiently for Rossi to get his jacket while Morgan and Prentiss had already left. He pushed the elevator button so they could get going quickly, all the while fighting with a stubborn button on his satchel.

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he simply walked in, still so focused on his hands that he almost collided with someone stepping out of the elevator at that moment. He gasped in surprise, just about to lose his balance when strong hands grabbed his arm and shoulder, steadying him.

When he looked up, Hotch was eyeing him with a look somewhere between stern and concerned.

"You okay?", he asked, letting go when he was sure Reid wouldn't fall.

Reid nodded, embarrassed by his clumsiness: "Fine."

Then, on second thought, his head shot up and he took the time to really look at the other agent. There were dark shadows under Hotch´s eyes; he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. "What about you? We were worried…"

"I´m fine.", Hotch cut him off, clearly keen on stopping him before he asked any personal questions: "What did I miss?"

Reid tried to hide his frown, deciding that if Hotch didn't want to talk it would have to wait. It wasn't his decision after all.

"JJ will brief you, she´s in her office. We´re staying here so you don't need to hurry. The rest of us are going out to look at the crime scenes. We´ll meet you guys later to set up the profile."

Hotch nodded quietly and Reid was glad that at least he wasn't arguing about wanting to come along right away. Maybe he could at least get some quiet if he wouldn't get some sleep.

"I´ll see you later then.", Hotch murmured, his eyes already searching the office for JJ. Reid nodded and was about to reply when something red caught his eye. He blinked, squinting his eyes incredulously. It didn't go away.

"Hotch.", he asked, alarm in his voice: "Is that blood on your neck?"

* * *

The end of chapter one.

i´m not sure whether to continue this, so i´d be glad if people would let me know if they would care for a continuation.

also, i could insert some pre-slash (R/M), if anyone cares for that. it wouldnt take up to much of the story, but i just enjoy writing a little bit ´slashy´...

anyway, let me know :-)


	2. Chapter 2

"Hotch, is that blood on your neck?", Reid asked, his heart skipping a beat.

He instinctively reached out with one hand but Hotch beat him to it. He smudged his thumb over the skin on his neck, examining it closely.

"I must have cut myself shaving.", he eventually shrugged, brows furrowed like he couldn't recall the event. Reid was about to let his former boss know that the neck was not a place one usually grew a beard but in that moment Rossi came up behind them, eyebrows raised at Hotch.

"Where have you been? Did Reid tell you we´ve got new case?"

Hotch nodded grimly: "I will see JJ now. See you guys later."

And with that he brushed past Reid without another word. Rossi´s only reaction was a non-commited shrug before he stepped into the elevator.

"You coming, kid?", he urged Reid who had been staring after Hotch with furrowed brows.

"Yeah. Yes.", the young genius hurried after him so they could start their investigation.

Derek was right, he thought to himself on the way down, he did worry too much. And what did he know about the extent of Hotch´s beard?

He sighed. It wasn't like he didn't have more important things to worry about.

* * *

"So he follows the victim into the alley and shoots him without much warning.", Morgan deducted from the crime scene in front of him: "There are no signs of a fight, no defensive wounds on the bodies. He surprises them."

Prentiss nodded, carefully stepping around one of the police lines.

"This victim, Timothy Becher was shot in the calf before he was beaten. One other victim was injured similarly, another was shot in the thigh, one in the shoulder.", she frowned: "The UnSub has to be a pretty good shot; he never hits them fatally, nothing that will kill them before he gets the chance."

She came back over to where Morgan was standing, looking at him with her arms crossed: "Question is: What were all those men even doing alone in these parts? The area is pretty dangerous, a lot of gangs and stuff like that. I don't think they were on their way home from the office."

Morgan nodded in agreement, waving for one of the police officers that were keeping the bystanders at bay. The man was past his fifties and a little soft around the belly, but he looked eager to help. He knew his way around this neighborhood and told them all he knew about possible gang activities. It turned out that Becher had indeed been in a gang.

"They robbed a convenient store not too long ago, got into a lot of trouble for that, too."

"Yeah, I remember that.", Emily cut in: "Remember, Morgan? That case we had a while back. The gang leader, Leo Kings, I think his name was, had gone on a killing spree in supermarkets and department stores when our guys caught him."

Instead of answering Morgan hit the speed dial on his cell, waiting all but ten seconds before talking into it: "Hey Garcia, I need you to look into a file for me. Leo Kings, he was one of our recent UnSubs. Right. He got any connection to a Timothy Becher?"

He put Garcia on speaker who started spitting out information immediately: "Timothy Becher, 36, previously convicted for splitting one guys head open with a broken bottle in a bar fight, another time for attempting to rob one of said stores. Some records of possible domestic violence, but the wife didn't press charges. He was part of Kings´ gang and brought in as a witness during his trial. They suspected him to be involved with the killings, but couldn't prove it. He went free."

"Looks like someone wasn't okay with that.", Prentiss said: "Maybe one of his old acquaintances wanted to make sure he didn't get away so easily while the others went to prison. We should look into that gang of his some more."

"On it.", Garcia agreed, hanging up.

"Well.", Morgan shrugged, putting on his shades as they walked back to the SUV: "That might be a lead. Let´s go see the next crime scene before starting to reinterview those gang members."

* * *

_Blood. _

_It was everywhere. _

_Sticky and smelling so sweet it had bile rising in his throat. It welled up between his hands as he held the limp body of his son´s mother in his arms, weeping. _

_All that blood. _

_Jack would never be able to play in here again with all that blood staining the carpet. He had to get him out of here, he had to get out before…_

"Hotch!"

Aaron Hotchner blinked, startled, when an insistent voice repeated his name. JJ stood at his office door, worry etched into her pretty face: "Hotch, are you alright?"

He hurried to sit up straighter in his swivel chair, inconspicuously wiping his sweaty forehead: "I´m fine, JJ. Are the others back yet?"

She shook her head, still a little uncertain whether she believed him: "I´ll tell you as soon as they´re back. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I´m good. Thank you."

He sighed with relief when she finally closed the door behind her, sagging back into his chair. The back of his shirt stuck to his back, cold sweat pouring out of every one of his pores. He rested his head in his hands for a moment, too afraid to close his weary eyes.

He hadn´t slept in what seemed like forever.

How could he, if the gruesome images of his wife´s murder even haunted him while he was awake? Hotch wasn't sure if exhaustion had had him nodding off briefly just then or if he had been day dreaming before JJ interrupted him.

Not that it made much off a difference.

He stared at the case files in front of him blankly.

Nothing did anymore.

"Alright. What have we got?", Morgan asked, looking around the conference room into the face of every single agent.

"Our victim was not very popular where he lived.", Rossi started: "It turns out this Marc Owen is said to have abused the children in his neighborhood. He was never convicted, but still no one would leave one good hair on him. If I remember correctly the police had him in several times over the last fifteen years but always had to let him go. We even questioned him for the one child abduction case we had (1), but it turned out he wasn't connected to that."

"So he was a black sheep then?", Emily interjected, rolling a pen in-between her fingers: "Kind of like our guy."

"And the others.", Reid added matter of factly: "It turns out all of the victims have a prior criminal record or they were at least suspected in one case. The nature of their crimes varies but the common denominator remains-"

"-They´re scum.", Rossi supplied helpfully and Reid nodded thankfully as he, too, would have been unsuccessful in sugarcoating it.

"Does that mean we´re looking for some kind of self-proclaimed Batman, here?", Morgan asked, eyebrows raised: "He takes out the trash that the police hasn't gotten too yet?"

"Actually.", Reid cleared his throat, falling into Dr. Reid-mode: "Batman is portrayed as more of a fighter for justice. He seeks out those who prey on the helpless and the innocent and fights for them because of course he is over compensating for his own helplessness as a child who had to watch his parents being gunned down for no apparent reason…"

"Thanks for the super hero lecture.", Morgan interrupted him before he could launch into an analysis regarding the use of symbolism in the universe of Marvel: "And I meant what you said. Sort of."

Reid just flashed him a grin, choosing not to comment on that.

"So what do we do?", Rossi asked: "Tell very criminal in town to steer clear of dark alleys? Somehow I don't see that working out."

"No, but I can tell the public to stay out of the areas in which the murders have happened.", JJ suggested: "I´ll tell them it's a male UnSub who targets men with a violent history until we have a more detailed profile."

"Thank you.", Morgan nodded, before turning back to the others: "And we should start interviewing any potential witnesses. Who wants to visit the families and who wants to go see the gangs?"

Not that that was much of a choice.

While the others filed out of the room, Rossi stayed behind, watching Hotch who had sat in his chair without moving an inch for the past half hour. Even now, he was just staring into space as though he hadn't even noticed everyone else leave.

Rossi could feel Reid hesitating by the door and shot him a reassuring glance. The young agent nodded and left reluctantly with one more worrisome glance towards Hotch, yet knowing that if Hotch would open up to anyone it would most likely be Rossi.

"Aaron.", he began softly, placing a hand on the backrest of Hotch´s chair. Hotch didn't react at first; Rossi had to call his name two more times before his head finally snapped up.

He could see now why Reid was so concerned.

Up close, Hotch looked like death warmed up. He probably hadn't slept for more than three hours in a row since Hayley´s death. Adding to that his absentmindedness and irritability, maybe he did need a break.

"Aaron, I´m worried.", he simply cut to the chase: "We all are. You've been under a lot of pressure lately, what with Haley´s funeral, Strauss´ investigation and caring for Jack. Are you sure you want to be in the field right now?"

Hotch shot him an annoyed glance, barely biting back a snarl.

"I can do my job, Dave.", he said in a clipped tone, getting up quickly: "I´m not like Gideon, I´m not going to have a mental breakdown because of a long dead psychopath. I´m not going to give _him_ that satisfaction."

Rossi sighed inwardly, not wanting to say out loud how much Hotch´s use of tenses and his overall behavior proved that the Reaper would never be dead to him.

He knew that if Hotch felt like they were trying to undermine his competence, or take his job -the last part of his life he could control- away from him, he would just shut them out even more. So instead he decided to go along with Hotch for now, so he would have the opportunity to talk more to him later.

"They don't call it a mental breakdown anymore, haven't you heard?", he smiled ironically and Hotch actually eased up a bit at the reference.

They walked towards Hotch´s office together and Rossi put a friendly hand on his shoulder once they were standing in front of the door, looking at him seriously:

"You´re one of our best profilers, Aaron. No one doubts that you excel at your job. I´m just asking you to think of Jack."

"I am thinking of Jack.", Hotch retorted, tightlipped once more: "You said so yourself. Jack needs to know that I haven't stopped fighting. Hunting the bad guys is who I am."

And with that he vanished inside the dimly lit office, leaving his concerned co-worker behind.

* * *

Anyone see where this is heading?

i hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know.

(1) –Making it up as I go. There probably is a case like that, I just didn't want to look it up, so feel free to insert the proper name there.

Concerning the blood on Hotch´s neck: Do men´s beards even reach their necks? I would´ve asked my boyfriend but I felt too stupid already for not knowing. So let's just pretend that Hotch´s does while Reid´s is less pronounced (which does seem logical now that I´m writing it out.)

Doesn't really matter in the end cause Hotch is lying anyway


	3. Chapter 3

chapter three; i´m working on getting some action rolling here, i´m still building up to it though.

i just wanted to thank all those who have reviewed and read my story so far, it´s great motivation to know people like it!

there is some kinda slash this time, mostly musing though, im getting there:-)

* * *

The BAU was humming like a bee hive since they had taken the case. People were swarming around, looking busy if not stressed and clutters of witnesses came and went without an end in sight.

Derek Morgan could feel the all familiar tension building up inside him that always followed difficult and long lasting investigations. Soon the whole team would be tired and stressed out; not exactly the best combination to be working together in a confined space. They had to catch this killer quickly; unfortunately they still weren't much further.

He looked through the office, trying to find Reid in-between the chaos, but couldn't make him out. So he made his way to where they usually did research, knowing he would most likely find the young genius buried underneath a pile of case related books.

Sure enough, Reid was sitting in the small room, a large pile of books to both sides of him. He seemed to be at it for a while already because his nose was almost touching the pages he was reading. Morgan stood by the door for a moment, taking the liberty to take in the other mans appearance without being caught.

Reid´s slender fingers brushed lightly across the line he was reading, and streaks of his long hair fell softly into his eyes.

Not for the first time, Morgan felt the sudden urge to step up behind him and brush those strands out of his face, to feel the texture of them or just to be able to get a better look at Reid´s face.

He shook his head, trying to clear it.

While he had come to terms with his inappropriate feelings towards the younger agent over the past couple of months, he was not about to let it keep him from focusing on the case.

"Found anything yet?", he asked casually.

Reid´s head snapped up as he was ripped from deep thoughts. He obviously had not realized he wasn't alone anymore. For a second before Reid realized who was talking to him, he looked at him like a deer in the headlights and Morgan couldn't help but smile slightly.

Even that was adorable.

Reid apparently took it for mockery of his reaction though and a slight frown developed on his face.

"Don't sneak up on people like that, Morgan, you could've given me a heart attack.", he complained, however, unable to keep his cheeks from reddening in embarrassment.

"Terribly sorry.", Morgan grinned, not entirely honest. He stepped up to the desk so he was standing next to Reid and looked at him questioningly: "So. Any progress so far?"

Reid shook his head in exasperation, slamming shut the book he had been reading: "It is obvious that something drastic must have happened in this UnSub´s life as of recent to push him into seeking an outlet this violent. Maybe we should look into recent homicides involving criminals in which unrelated people were killed. It could lead us to a friend or family member who is seeking revenge."

Morgan nodded in agreement: "Not all of them were in a gang though, Reid. We could find no connection between the victims: They weren't involved in one case together."

"Hmm, maybe one man´s crime was the stressor, and the other killings have just happened because the UnSub feels they are just as guilty even if they didn't hurt someone he knows personally. He might just be reliving the original scenario with different victims."

Morgan merely raised one eyebrow at him.

"So we are looking for a crime that might not even be reported, committed by someone who we can´t question anymore? Terrific.", he sighed in frustration.

Reid smiled slightly at that and got up to put the used books back into their places. "We will find him, we´re professionals after all.", he said with confidence.

Morgan only wished he could be so optimistic: "Professionals that have been up for three days in a row, with a former unit chief who is losing it…"

The frown returned to Reid´s face when he referred to Hotch.

"I´m really worried about him, Derek.", he admitted, slipping into the manner the team addressed each other when talking about personal issues. It illustrated that Reid wasn´t just worried about Hotch as his co-worker, and Morgan knew that, still he was a little distracted for a moment when he called him by his first name.

It sounded good. Too good.

"He´s not been himself lately.", Reid continued, oblivious to Morgan´s thoughts: "He´s just been so detached and emotionless towards us, even for his standards, only to become aggressive the next second. He can´t concentrate on our cases, likely because he doesn't sleep and sometimes I feel like he is far away when we talk to him, like he can´t even hear us.", he looked down, his hair covering his eyes: "Like…like he is still there…with Foyet."

Morgan tilted his head empathetically. He too, was concerned about Hotch after the trauma of Hayley´s death, but Reid´s worry seemed to keep him from working.

He wondered briefly if that might be because Hotch was dear to him, in the way Reid was dear to Morgan. Almost instantly he felt bad for even thinking that; there was no indication that Reid was even attracted to men- that he knew all too well, because he had been paying close attention - and he felt bad for twisting his heartfelt empathy into something else out of misplaced jealousy.

"That kind of trauma is always going to leave scars, Reid.", he said instead: "You know that. Hotch will come around. He will grieve and then he will move on. But I need you to focus on the case and not him, ok?"

Reid stood across from him, his arms folded across his chest protectively, in a way that made Morgan want to pull him close and hug him, to let him know that he was there for him.

"He told me once that Hayley was the love of his life.", Reid said sullenly, his fingers flexing on his arms: "That he would never be able to be with someone else if she died."

Reid looked so utterly crestfallen in saying that that it tore at Morgan´s heart, mostly because he knew it was probably true. Even after the divorce, Hotch had not taken up dating other people and it hadn´t seemed like he was planning to.

He wasn't sure what he could say at this point to cheer up Reid, but once the next words left this mouth he knew that it had been the wrong ones.

"He won´t stay alone forever. He´ll date again soon enough. It´s not like he couldn't find a pretty girl for himself."

Reid looked up at him with undisguised irritation: "You know that it´s not about looks. And it´s not about finding someone to sleep with."

He looked truly angry now, with a hint of hurt flashing through his eyes.

Morgan blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way. "It didn't mean…"

But Reid wouldn't let him finish: "No, you did. I know you think I´m overreacting, but you don't need to ridicule the matter…or me. But I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that you would think like that."

He made to walk past Morgan and leave the room, but was abruptly stopped by a hand on his arm. Morgan was blocking his way, looking at him intensely:

"Why would you say that?", he demanded tensely.

Reid looked at him with annoyance, but resisted the urge to pull his arm free: "Come on; Morgan, I know you don't think much of serious relationships, but even you should realize that some people actually fall in love and experience loss."

"Just because I like casual sex doesn't mean I don't know what love is."

"Yeah, well, then don't act like Hotch is just going through a phase.", Reid snapped: "He needs help and if you won´t give him that help then I will!"

And with that, his disentangled himself from the other with some effort and left the room with hurried steps.

Morgan looked after him, the pang of hurt in his chest proving very conveniently that he too knew what love and heartbreak felt like. Did Reid really think like that of him? That he didn't care for the feelings of his partners?

How had he managed to mess this up so badly?

He and Reid rarely fought, so he must have really upset the young man with his words. Silently cursing himself, he went back to the research team.

He had to find a way to make it right. Had to make Reid see that he too knew well what love meant.

But for that to happen he first had to get Reid to speak with him again. And if that was by talking to Hotch, it would be all the better.

Of course, for that to happen, Hotch had to show up at work first.

* * *

It was late afternoon and they were long busy interviewing more of the invited witnesses when the call came in.

"Guys.", JJ´s voice matched her face: "There´s another victim."

They were all gathered in the conference room within minutes. Reid was making a point of not looking directly at Morgan, their disagreement still fresh on both of their minds. Morgan couldn't help but notice that Hotch still hadn't shown up.

As always, everyone pretended not to notice so they wouldn't have to report him.

They had a killer to worry about now.

"How is that possible?", Morgan exclaimed, agitated: "According to our profile we had at least another day before the next kill!"

"Well, something must have set him off. Maybe he got stressed because he knows we´re on to him.", Prentiss offered next to Rossi who was discreetly yawning into his coffee: "Who´s the dead guy?"

JJ surprised them all by saying: "He´s not dead."

Morgan blinked at her incredulously: "Come again?"

"Jack Mortinson, 38.", JJ explained, pulling an older mug shot out of her folder: "The UnSub attacked him yesterday night, but he got away unharmed."

"Where is he?", came Hotch´s stern voice from the door and they all turned towards him in surprise. He didn't attempt to explain his tardiness but just stared at JJ waiting for an answer.

"Um, we have moved him to a safe location in case the killer decides to go after him again.", she replied, a bit uneasy under his gaze.

"But how did he get away?", Rossi pressed: "From what we have made out about this UnSub so far, he doesn't exactly give the victims much time to defend themselves or even talk their way out of it."

JJ shrugged, holding up the police report: "Says here he was disturbed. His wife was with him I believe. She screamed when she saw the gun and the UnSub took off."

"Fine. We need someone to go talk to them.", Morgan decided, getting up: "JJ, Reid, you up to it?"

Both of them nodded in unison. Perfect, that would give Morgan the chance to isolate Hotch.

"Great. JJ has got the address of where they´re hiding him. Don't take any other cops with you, call me directly for back up if you get into any sort of trouble. And make sure no one follows you to the house. We don't want to lead the UnSub to Mortinson ourselves."

The two young agents left the room, idly chatting about Henry´s new developments.

"Alright.", Morgan said, trying to sound enthusiastic: "The rest of us will keep interviewing the other witnesses. There´s four of us, so everyone gets one victim. Hurry, guys, we don't know how much time we´ve got until the next attack."

They each took their pick, leaving the office one by one.

Only three of them would reach their assigned destination.

"This is it."; JJ brought the car to a stop in front of a rundown house with an unkempt lawn in front of it. The neighborhood truly wasn't the best, even with the streets empty of people as they were right now.

"Where is everyone?", JJ frowned, a little nervous: "It just past seven and not even dark yet."

"We told them to stay out of the streets, remember?", Reid smiled wryly, not sharing her obvious discomfort.

In truth, his mind was still occupied with thoughts of Hotch and his clearly disturbed behavior earlier. Then there was Morgan.

He felt bad already for accusing the unit chief of not caring about Hotch, it had just overcome him back there. He knew he needed to make it right, just like he needed to help Hotch.

He sighed inwardly. Maybe he should just risk getting yelled at and try to get him to talk later…then find Morgan and apologize…

They both jumped when JJ´s cell phone suddenly rang, the shrill tune echoing off the car´s walls. She looked at Reid apologetically before answering it. Reid hadn't realized it wasn't her work phone until she started quarreling with what could only be Will.

"What? But- no! I can't leave now, we´re in the middle of a case. Ask Sandra to go with him- I- oh, darn it…fine I´ll get there as soon as I can."

She sighed and hung up, hitting her temple against the cars window.

"Everything alright?", Reid asked, not mentioning that they were not supposed to take personal calls while working.

"That was Will.", JJ lamented: "Henry has got the measles all out of a sudden and needs to be picked up from his daycare. Will and our babysitter have never had the measles and can´t risk contracting it."

She rubbed the sides of her nose, like she was having a head ache.

"Hey. Don't worry.", Reid told her reassuringly, also not wanting his godson to be in that dilemma for too long: "Why don't you go pick him up and then come back here? I´ll start with the interview by myself."

JJ looked at him for a long moment, clearly conflicted: "I don't know. I don't want to leave you like that, but…"

"It´s okay.", he repeated friendly. He got out of the car and walked around to the driver's window. Bending towards the opened window he smiled at her, trying to get his friend to stop worrying: "Tell Henry I said hi."

She returned his smile thankfully before driving off.

"I´ll hurry back.", she promised.

Reid looked after her for a moment, allowing himself to think of his little godson and hoping he would get better soon, before walking up to the house and ringing the door bell.

He didn't have to wait for long before a disheveled looking woman in her thirties opened. She looked up at him apprehensively, her face half hidden behind messy blonde hair.

Reid was quick to smile at her reassuringly, trying to ease her obvious concern.

"Hello, my name is Spencer Reid. I´m with the FBI. If you could answer a few questions for me, so we can arrest the man who attacked your husband…"

The woman nodded without saying a word, practically disappearing behind the door as she opened it wider for him to come in.

Reid entered the dimly lit house, the door falling shut behind him just seconds before a black vehicle pulled up on the other side of the street.

The man inside the car watched the Mortinson´s house for a moment, contemplating on how to proceed. Way down the street he could see the car that the FBI had sent disappear in the distance.

Perfect.

He would just wait to make sure they were really gone for good, that he had the privacy he needed, before he made sure that Mortinson didn't get away a second time.

After making sure the streets were still empty, he got out of the car, fastening the gun on his belt before walking up to the house quickly.

It shouldn't be too hard to find an open back door or window.

Mortinson wouldn't know what hit him. Or who, to be more precise.

"Don't worry.", Reid smiled at the woman as she led him into the living room: "We will make sure you and your husband stay safe throughout this."

* * *

uh oh, reid really has terrible timing, doesnt he? now the unsub thinks its only mortinson in the house because jj took the car!

hope reid doesnt get into trouble, but then i already know he will lol

hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

hey:-) and we move on to chapter 4.

a collective thank you to writernoob, HotchRocks, Jabberswife, js56, lolyncut, Mystery Hunter and for being so kind as to review my last update. i hope you´ll like this chapter as well.

i´ll try to answer reviews sepereately from now on, but today my scedule is kinda tight, sorry. if the story is confusing or something please tell me i´ll try to explain what i meant. :-)

anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Sara Mortinson sat opposite to Reid on the living room couch, kneading her bony hands.

Reid couldn't help but notice that her long sleeves covered as much of her arms and hands as her hair did of her face. Even for someone who wasn't a profiler it would be easy to see that she was distressed by something beyond the threat to her husband.

"Ms Mortinson.", Reid said softly, carefully arranging his words: "I know you've already told the police, but I´d like to hear from you what exactly happened when that man attacked you. Is your husband here? I would like to get his statement, too."

She flinched slightly, completely without reason from where Reid stood. What could have her so on edge? It surely wasn't him. He frowned, knowing full well that he of all people didn't appear threatening to anyone, ever. So what was going on here?

The blonde woman answered in a voice so hushed that he almost didn't hear her:

"He´s…he´s out back, making sure the dogs are locked into their kennels.", she explained: "He´ll be right in. But I will tell you what happened."

Reid nodded quietly, letting her take the initiative.

"We were walking down the street…my husband had picked me up from that bar I work in downtown, we were…uhm, having an argument because of a customer that tried to chat me up…", he hesitated then, only to finish the sentence in a rush that seemed unnatural: "…and suddenly there was this man standing not ten feet away from us, a gun drawn and…and I screamed…and then he ran off…"

Reid looked at her with a slight frown on his face, knowing that she wasn't telling him everything but not sure how to best get the truth out of her.

"What did he look like?", he asked for starters.

"Tall, white, broad shoulders, dark clothes, black hair.", she was looking down at her hands, like she was willing them to stop shaking: "And his eyes…they were…there was something in them like….I don't know, I scared me to look at them…"

Reid nodded, pretending to jot down her words in a little notebook. Not that he actually needed to take notes, he just wanted to give her some time.

Then he continued:

"So did you simply scream out or did you say something to him that might have caused him to hesitate?"

She shook her head immediately: "No I didn't. I just yelled ´Jack´ - my husband's name, you know, and he hesitated and then ran."

Reid nodded, writing again. He was contemplating why that simple action would have stopped the UnSub while at the same time trying to figure out a way to phrase his next question tactfully:

"And you were really just walking?"

He noticed that she still wouldn't meet his gaze, but the set of her shoulders told him that he was on the right track with his suspicion. Ms Mortinson fumbled with her shirt sleeve nervously: "What do you mean?"

Reid sighed heavily, wishing there were an easy way to do this. It was the part of his job he liked least. Apart from discovering bloody body parts of course.

"You said you saw the UnSub, right?", he pressed: "Why didn't your husband?"

No answer –which, in this case was all the answer he needed.

"Because he was facing you…because during the fight, he was grabbing you…?", he asked, careful not to push her too far. She looked startled, meeting his eyes for the first time and he immediately saw proof of his theory in the blackened skin around her left eye.

So Mortinson wasn´t above using violence.

Domestic abuse, he registered, just like that other victim. Maybe even sexual abuse, like Marc Owen. What had only been a vague lead before, suddenly manifested itself into a logical profile inside his head.

"Batman.", he whispered to himself, his heart skipping in excitement.

Ms Mortinson looked at him in confusion: "What?"

"He thinks he´s protecting the innocent by killing those men. That he´s making the world a better place.", everything was falling into place now; they could work with this new knowledge. Reid kept talking, more to himself than to his counterpart:

"He thinks he is doing this to bring them the justice that the police isn't capable of…", he looked up at her, eyes sharp this time. There was no more time to waste by beating around the bush.

"Ms Mortinson, who else knows that your husband hits you?"

Instead of answering, the woman suddenly gasped, her eyes widening as she stared past Reid´s shoulder. Reid barely had time to register that someone was standing behind him before a hard hand roughly grabbed his neck, wrenching him out of his chair.

Startled, he jerked his head around only to stare into a set of angry, blood-shot eyes.

"What´s this?", Jack Mortinson snapped as he shook him harshly, his fingers digging painfully into Reid´s skin: "You here to help me or denunciate me?"

Reid grimaced as the man´s breath washed over his face, smelling of alcohol. His fingers clawed at Mortinson´s, uselessly trying to get out of his grip.

"Mr. Mortinson, please calm down…", he managed to get out, just before he was slammed face first into the nearby wall. Reid moaned as pain shot through his skull, seemingly splitting it in half; that man sure knew how to inflict pain with his hands. Maybe now was a good time to start worrying, he thought over the pounding of his heart.

"You don't come into my house, and accuse me of beating my wife, boy!"; Mortinson snarled: "I am the victim here!"

His hands roughly dug into Reid´s long hair, forcefully pulling his head back and thereby completely contradicting his words. Reid returned the man's gaze as best as he could in his position and tried to stay calm and collected. There was no way he could fight him off physically, so all he could try to work with was pyscology.

"And I´m here to help you, Mr. Mortinson.", he protested through clenched teeth and the man's grip tightened: "But I need to know why exactly…"

He didn't get to finish because his head was shoved into the wall once more, harder this time. He could feel the skin on his forehead breaking under the force and cursed silently when he saw stars.

This clearly wasn't going well.

In retrospective, it had been right stupid of him to come here alone, contrary to how the team usually worked, but he doubted JJ would have been of much help at the moment anyway. Seeing as Mortinson was clearly just as dangerous as the actual UnSub he was rather glad she hadn't come.

"I can protect myself and my wife just fine.", Mortinson now snarled close to his ear: "And that bastard who attacked us will find that out if he dares show up here…"

"He will kill you.", Reid disagreed as calmly as possible, trying to convince the man that they were on the same side.

His fingers were pressed into the wall at his sides uselessly, too far from anything to reach for a potential weapon.

From his compromised position, he could barely make out Ms Mortinson who was standing by the couch, her hands fidgeting over her chest. She didn't say a word to stop her husband, clearly fearing to become the target of his temper instead.

Mortinson only laughed, ripping Reid´s head backwards once more: "Not if I kill him first. But only after I´ve taught you a lesson, nancy boy. Sara, wait upstairs till I get you."

His wife didn't have to be told twice; she hurried towards the stairs and shortly after a door on the first floor clicked shut.

Reid closed his eyes briefly and made an effort to take a calming breath. He dealt with brilliant psychopathic minds on a daily basis, for god´s sake, he should very well be able to talk sense into a violent drunk.

"Mr. Mortinson, please let me go.", he tried again: "I´m really only trying to…"

A well placed kidney punch knocked the breath out of him, his knees sagged, worsening the pressure on his skull as Mortinson wouldn't let go even now.

Clearly, talking sense into a maniac would have a better success rate.

Reid was just about to steel himself for the beating of his life when the sound of a gun being cocked had both men freezing.

Through the splitting ache in his head, Reid needed about the same amount of milliseconds as the drunken Mortinson to figure out who was standing right behind them.

_Great_, Reid thought, _from smoke to smother._

Before he had time to do or think anything else, Mortinson suddenly spun around, dragging him with him like a human shield. It was his luck because not a moment later a shot rang out.

Reid screamed out when searing pain shot through his left thigh and he went down for good. He hit the ground hard, barely registering that Mortinson must have let him go while making a run for the door.

Pain radiated from his leg in waves and when he clutched it with trembling fingers he felt his pants quickly being soaked by his own blood.

_Oh, please don't let him have hit an artery_, was all he could think over his own racing heart pounding in his ears and the increasing pain that seemed to envelop him.

There was another shot not too far away and then a scream.

With some effort Reid lifted his head from the floor, vaguely aware that blood was dripping into his eyes, and made out two figures at the other end of the room. He squinted, trying to see more of the UnSub, but could only make out shadows and he wondered if that was due to night falling or the concussion he almost certainly had.

With trembling fingers he fumbled for his cell, but found that he was lying on his pocket. He gritted his teeth and tried to shift his hips, only to be hit by another wave of excruciating pain.

´Morgan´, he thought dimly, he had to call Morgan. Warn him; tell him what he had found out, that the UnSub was right here…

…beating the life out of Jack Mortinson.

Reid froze in terror when he realized that the UnSub was kneeling over Mortinson´s crumpled body, hitting him with unrestrained brutality.

God, he was killing him, with him lying right here and Mortinsons wife just upstairs.

Reid started to panic, trying to reach for his cell once more. With tremendous effort, he finally pulled it free, all the while trying to block out Mortinson´s wailing and screaming.

Somehow he managed to hit the speed dial, clutching the phone to his ear with already numbing fingers.

There was the distinct sound of bones being crushed, and a gurgle that almost didn't sound human.

Nausea threatened to overcome him and he couldn't tell whether it was from the horror or the blood loss. His vision was failing now, telling him that he only had so many moments of conscience left.

"What´s up, Reid?"

He had never been so glad to hear Morgan´s warm voice say his name.

"Morgan…", he had to try twice to get his vocal chords to work and even then his voice sounded entirely unfamiliar. It was hard to think, hard not to give in to the darkness lurking at the sides of his vision: "He´s…here…"

He wasn't sure if Morgan had heard him.

The screams had stopped now, and he knew the silence could only mean one thing.

Mortinson was dead and the UnSub had nothing left that would distract him from moving on to Reid.

Sure enough, a pair of black shoes sprinkled with spots of crimson suddenly moved into his field of vision. The UnSub kneeled down, swiftly taking the cell phone from his limp hand.

"Reid? What's going on…?", Morgan´s voice, now worried, sounded unbearably far away: "What's going on, kid?"

Knowing he couldn't answer, he used the last of his strength to look up into the killers face.

"You…!", he croaked with wide eyes, horrified at what he was seeing.

Aaron Hotchner was leaning over him with blood smeared all over his hands and face. His dark eyes were unreadable as he snapped the cell phone shut without a word.

"No…", Reid whispered, horrified as the last pieces of the puzzle feel neatly into place.

Too late.

His head and eyelids were suddenly too heavy to keep up and he sagged to the floor bonelessly.

The last thing he felt before darkness claimed him were strong arms lifting him from the floor, leaving him at the mercy of a maniacal serial killer.

* * *

and yet another mean cliffhanger. sorry guys :-)

poor reid is in a bit of trouble there, i´ll have to find someone to save him, i guess. lol

and sorry to those who dont like hotch as an unsub. it would make sense though what with the show always emphasizing that the team has be like the predators they hunt and then with the stress he´s had. i wont make him ebvil though, if that´s any help. he just needs help. luckly he has just kidnapped a doctor :-)

have a good weekend you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Alright, so here is chapter 5 now. Thanks again to you guys for taking such interest in the story.

Seeing as it is at the moment there probabaly wont be much room for romance since the whole action plot kind of makes it hard for our guys to relax and stuff, but i´ll sqeeze in some hurt/comfort and cute stuff like that. coz morgan might be sure of his feelings but reid had bigger problems at the moment...we´ll see, maybe towards the end.

anyway, enjoy:

* * *

Derek Morgan rubbed his burning eyes in exhaustion, trying to focus on the highway he was driving on.

The current case was taking a toll on all of them, especially since the killings seemed to have accelerated so much. Like the others he hadn't gotten a good night´s sleep in… well, he was sure that it was too long.

Prentiss and he were just returning from a rather unpleasant interview with Leo Kings´ criminal gang and apart from a few rather unsettling propositions thrown at Emily they had not gotten anything useful out of them.

"So what do we do now?", Emily asked from the passenger seat, clearly as bad moody as he was himself: "Kings and the others have alibis. They can´t be our killer. And the leads that the others were following are even more likely to go cold."

Morgan tried not to let his frustration show too much as he shrugged: "I guess our best shot now is to look at the Mortinson case and figure out why he got away. That might give us some more clues about the UnSubs psyche."

Emily nodded in agreement: "Probably. Well, JJ and Reid should be back at the office by now. We can ask them once we get there."

Morgan nodded silently, his thoughts drifting off to his still unresolved personal problems. After Reid had left, he had tried to talk to Hotch alone, but the other man had cut him off brusquely before grabbing a folder and heading out to do some more interviews on his own.

Sighing heavily, he pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He shouldn't have let him go by himself, should have insisted they talk; he hadn´t, and now he couldn't get the hurt on Reid´s face out of his mind anymore.

He was sure the doctor hadn´t meant to get into his face like that; they were just stressed out and on edge. Still, he was planning to talk it out calmly as soon as he had a moment alone with Reid. The last thing he wanted was for this to ruin their relationship.

Just when he contemplated what to say to Reid his cell phone suddenly rang, showing his name on the caller ID. Quickly he picked it up and answered it, happy to hear from him when he´d thought Reid wouldn't want to talk to him for a very long time.

"What´s up, Reid?", he greeted him lightly, one hand still on the steering wheel.

There was no verbal response. All he heard were some unidentifiable background noises and something that sounded like a strained moan and heavy breathing. Worry claimed him immediately and he gripped the phone tighter.

"Reid?", he repeated urgently, the edge to his voice earning him a wary glance from Emily. Finally, he got an answer, even though it took him a moment to make out the faint croak as a familiar voice.

"Morgan…", the way Reid said his name made his blood run cold: "…he…he´s…here…"

Over his suddenly racing heartbeat, Morgan's mind was reeling.

Something was terribly wrong.

He didn't have to ask to be sure of that, not really. If Reid was too weak to speak he was hurt –and in danger. With his free hand, he spun the car around so suddenly that Emily yelped in fear and pressed on the gas pedal as he raced in the direction of the Mortinson household.

It was too late though, he knew that. _´He´s here…´ _

The UnSub was right there with Reid and JJ, with nothing he could do to help them.

Still, he kept asking, desperately hoping that he was wrong, or that at least Reid wasn't in fatal danger if he could still talk to him. Maybe the UnSub had just incapacitated them and then fled.

Maybe…

_´Christ, please let him be okay!´ _

"Reid, what´s going on? Talk to me, kid!", there was no mistaking the tone of his voice for anything but panic now. He raced down the highway, feeling Emily´s anxious stare on him.

No answer. He thought he heard steps over Reid´s ragged breathing. Panic tightened his throat.

Maybe not.

Morgan´s heart sunk when Reid´s choked voice faintly whispered: "You!", yet with so much horror that it almost felt staged.

"No….!", he couldn't be sure if it was Reid or himself saying the word, repeating it over and over until the line went dead and after. It felt like he was in a nightmare.

"He´s got him…", he pressed out between gritted teeth, racing down the street like a madman: "The UnSub´s got them."

JJ looked as miserable as Morgan felt.

She was pacing just outside the Mortinson´s living room, avoiding looking at the bloody remains of the houses´ former owner. Ms Mortinson was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, seemingly sunken into herself while Emily tried to question her.

They had arrived to late, of course, all they had found was a mangled corpse with reids phone next to it and a clueless woman. No sign of either agent.

There were at least a dozen police officers and a couple of unnecessary paramedics in the living room. Emily had called them from the car, after Morgan had told her briefly what was happening, both of them ready to find their friends at least hurt badly if not worse.

It turned out the paramedics weren't needed since the only body left was cold even before they arrived.

JJ had shown up shortly after, obviously confused by the commotion. Even now, she still wasn't over the shock that Reid was missing. Neither was Morgan.

He was pacing restlessly, trying not to shoot angry glances at the blonde agent for leaving her partner all alone. Again.

Memories of Reid being abducted by Tobias Hankel invaded his mind and he cringed when he thought of the young man, bound and helpless, bloodied, tortured…only a hair´s width from death when they finally found him…

He chased the thought away vigorously. No, he couldn't think like that. They didn't have proof that Reid was dead.

Apart from his dying voice and the knowledge that he had been abducted by a serial killer, of course.

And the last thing he´d done was fight with him. Morgan squeezed his eyes shut tightly. What if he would now never get a chance to apologize…what if…?

"Morgan.", Prentiss called for him then, and he composed himself as best as he could before he went to stand next to her as she took Ms Mortinson´s hand in hers.

"Ma´m.", she urged her gently: "Can you please tell us again what exactly happened here?"

The woman took a shaky breath, not looking at either one of them as she spoke.

"The young man, that partner of yours came here to ask me about the killings…me and Jack…" , her voice cracked slightly at saying her husbands´ name but she continued: "We were talking and he was writing notes into a little book, when Jack came in. They…fought. I went upstairs…then I heard shouting, and shots. When I came down here…your friend was gone…and Jack, he…"

She broke off then, muffling her sobs with one of her shaking hands.

"A notebook?", Morgan asked incredulously.

It seemed odd that Reid would write down anything, like he would forget it. Emily pointed at the table to where a small black notepad lay. When he picked it up he saw the tiny splatters of red on the cover and fought hard to keep his composure.

He flipped to the last page and read Reid´s entry.

_´UnSub: Caucasian, dark hair, late thirties. Responded to hearing the victims name: Jack. Likely physically abuses his wife. BATMAN.´_

The last word was smeared across the page in capital letters.

Morgan frowned, trying to make sense of it.

"Ma´m, did he say anything to you, think out loud maybe? Something in connection to Batman?"

Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap.

It took her a moment to nod: "Yes, I didn't understand it, but he said…something about the killer believing he had a just cause, that he was protecting innocents by killing criminals."

Emily looked up at him intently.

"Interesting angle.", she said analytically: "So we were right about the whole super hero complex."

"Well, it doesn't help us now, does it?", Morgan snapped, frustrated.

He immediately felt sorry for losing his calm when he saw her face crunch up in hurt.

Exasperated he walked back into the living room, barely glancing at the crestfallen JJ when he asked: "Have Hotch and Rossi been notified yet? They need to come here, too."

"I´ve called them. Rossi is on his way. Hotch isn't answering his phone."

"Well, try again.", he told her brusquely, vaguely aware that he shouldn't let his anxiety and rage out on his friends but at the same time incapable of stopping himself. All he wanted as to be out there, personally turning every stone in Quantico until he found Reid, but he knew that he would be of more use here.

So he went to talk to one of the cops who was obviously something like a blood splatter analyst.

"So how did it go down?", he was almost afraid to ask but knew that he had to for more than one reason.

The woman pointed her gloved hand at some blood smears by the wall.

"See those little drops smeared at shoulder height?", she explained detachedly: "Looks like someone was smashed into the wall. The UnSub must have hit his head against it to make sure he didn't fight back, then there is this…."

Morgan followed her gaze to a large pool of blood on the carpet next to their feet.

"That's most likely from a gunshot wound to the hip or leg, depending on how tall the victim was."

Morgan nodded: "So the killer comes in, hits Mortinson over the head and shoots him in the leg?", he asked, not ashamed at how hopeful it sounded.

She shot him an odd look before shaking her head: "Negative. Mortinson has suffered a gunshot wound to the chest; it doesn't fit these blood splatters. Plus, there would be more blood on the way to where he is lying now if he had already been shot here."

"It's not his blood?", Morgan asked tensely, feeling his throat close up.

"We need to wait for the test results. But I want to say no. They're most likely from your agent. The UnSub probably incapacitated him here, before he went on to where Mortinson was standing and killed him."

"So you think Reid is still alive?", Morgan pressed, not caring about the dead criminal in the least. The woman shrugged.

"There is not enough blood here to suggest otherwise. Still that doesn't necessarily mean…"

"Thank you.", he cut her off harshly, already back on his way to the door. He didn't need to hear about the odds. He needed to know that there was still a chance, still time…

"Where are you going?", Emily called in surprise when he rushed past her.

"To look at the car tracks outside.", he replied curtly, eager to get out.

He just couldn't stand the sight of what was likely Reid´s blood staining way too much of that carpet.

The fresh air barely did him any good as he took long strides towards the officers securing the evidence outside; he didn't have time to waste.

If Reid was alive he would find him and bring him home safely. If not- he couldn't even bring himself to think about that…

* * *

The darkness released him slowly, almost reluctantly, only to give him over to pain.

Spencer Reid tried to open his eyes, to move at all, but found that any movement seemed unbearably hard, not to mention painful.

His clouded mind tried to orientate itself, remember what happened, but his thoughts were like honey, sticky and dripping slowly into the night.

There was something…something he had to remember, just behind the pain.

He heard his own shaky breath, too loud in the silence and suddenly he wasn't alone anymore. There were eyes, dark and burning, of which he wasn't sure if they were in- or outside his mind, then hands, pulling at him.

He cringed when the pain intensified and tried once more to move, to recoil from the touch. Strong hands tightened their grip, making it impossible for him to get away.

"Stop struggling.", a low voice came from out of the dark, somewhere above him, familiar and yet terrifying: "You´re only going to make it worse."

* * *

oh, poor reid. more of that next chapter, i promise.

btw, i know morgan isnt really that rude, he´s just worried and I remember how mad he was at JJ when Reid got kidnapped by Hankel.

hope you liked it :-)


	6. Chapter 6

_If I go crazy then will you still call me superman?_

-Three Doors Down, My Kryptonite.

* * *

Reid was sure he must have been awake before, despite having no memory of that.

But when he finally found the strength to open his heavy eyes his surroundings seemed somewhat familiar. He blinked, acutely aware of the dull throbbing of his skull and the burning sensation in his left thigh.

His fingers reached up to touch his leg and he could feel a partially wet cloth there; pressure on his wound. Someone had cut of the blood flow enough so he wouldn't lose too much. Still, he could tell from the way he felt that it had been a lot.

Exhausted by even such a small movement, he let his hand fall back to his side; it grazed cold, damp concrete.

Reid felt dizzy and terribly tired, ready to give back into pain free unconsciousness, but knew that he couldn't, shouldn't.

Not in his situation. His memory was fuzzy, frayed around the edges, but he was sure that there was something he needed to remember, a reason why he was hurting like this, why his instincts had his pulse racing in fear.

Something…he had been with JJ, Henry was sick…

It was hard to focus; to follow one train of thought for long enough to come to a conclusion.

The case, Jack Mortinson…

It all came rushing back then, too fast for him to process it thoroughly. He had been in the victim's house, being beaten up for no apparent reason…well, that explained his headache and nausea.

Then, there had been more pain, gun shots…

His stomach turned when the image of Jack Mortinson being beaten on the ground resurfaced, along with all the gruesome noises and smells.

Along with the image of the man who killed him.

Those dark eyes, he had looked into them then, and after, even though he hadn't been fully conscious. He remembered the man picking him up swiftly and taking him away, taking him here. Wherever _here_ was…

By then he was lucid enough to know that he was in deep, deep trouble –and to ask himself the most crucial question: Why hadn´t the UnSub killed him, too?

He looked around the room once more to find any clues that might help him. It was a basement as far as he could tell, bare except for a radiator, water pipes and some boxes in the opposite corner. To the far right of him there were steps going up to a wooden door.

Most likely the UnSub´s own basement. So all the team had to do was figure out who the UnSub was and they would find him.

That was another good question: Why hadn't they yet?

It didn't seem so hard to figure it out to him.

He tried to grasp his aching head with his right hand, willing away the dizziness, but found that he couldn't. He tugged at his wrist again, more sharply this time, only to hear metal clinging above his head. Dreadfully, he looked up, finding that his right wrist had been cuffed to a pipe running along the wall.

Apart from sending a new wave of fear through him, the image was strangely familiar. Those cuffs, he´d seen them before. They were the ones the team used.

The ones used by…

"No." he whispered, devastated as the last piece of memory suddenly returned to him.

That explained why the team hadn't found him yet. It was easy for Reid because he knew. And working backwards, it all fell into place logically; one could figure it out with the clues they already had and the ones he had left in his notebook.

But they wouldn't.

Because they wouldn't believe it if it hit them in the face. They would never suspect one of their own.

"Hotch…", he whispered brokenly, trying to wrap his mind around the horrid reality of the situation. Their boss, their friend….their UnSub.

Reid wished it were less believable, less logical in any way. But looking at what had happened with Foyet and Hayley, and then at the UnSub´s profile, it made perfect sense. Hotch had beaten Foyet to death after he had killed his wife and nearly his son. And now their victims were dying in the same way. It couldn't be coincidence.

Reid knew that exposure to traumatic and violent events could trigger psychotic episodes. He had seen even the symptoms in Hotch after that case: the lack of sleep, the irritability, the hostility, his unstable behavior during cases. What he hadn't realized was that at some point delusions and a compulsion to relive the event must have followed.

Just like all of them, Hotch could never deal with the fact that often they couldn't save the innocents, but losing Hayley that way and being helpless to stop it must have been the straw that broke the camel´s back.

So now he was out there since weeks, seeking out men that were criminals like Foyet, that hurt helpless and innocent people, killing them because he couldn't get to Foyet anymore. Because even with the Reaper gone he couldn't feel safe anymore. Because he wanted to protect others from becoming widowers and orphans.

The thought of that brought desperate tears to Reid´s eyes.

It had been right in front of them and no one had noticed. He had been sure that Hotch suffered from insomnia and that he needed counseling but even he would have never suspected a break like this.

Reid closed his eyes in order to escape his blurry vision and tried to focus on what he knew about psychotic episodes.

Pulling up a page from one of the many psychology books in his mind, he gathered the information he needed: What Hotch was experiencing was likely what was called a brief reactive psychosis triggered by violent trauma, considering that there was no history of genetically triggered psychosis in Hotch´s family.

He would likely be experiencing hallucinations or even delusions, probably reliving the day that Hayley died over and over. Those images and the rage and agony he connected with them would drive him to seek an outlet and since Foyet was dead he would find someone who resembled him.

That was why all the victims had been related to at least one older case of the BAU; Hotch had found them this way.

And that was why he had hesitated when Mortinson´s wife had screamed Jack. Because under the disturbance in his brain, there was what drove him most even in his crimes: the wish to protect his son and all other victims.

So he would most likely think that what he was doing was perfectly justified, maybe even be proud of it. He would lack the self awareness to realize that he was committing a crime just as horrid as Foyet´s.

The question was how far gone Hotch was by now. He obviously still had some self control if he could show up at work every day, but the way the time between killings had been minimized suggested that it was slipping.

"So stupid…", Reid quietly cursed himself.

He should have noticed. He should have gotten him help before it had come to this.

And now he couldn't even know for sure what Hotch´s plans for him were.

Sure, he had not killed him along with Mortinson which indicated that he was sticking to his MO of only killing criminals. But Reid was on the team that was hunting him and Hotch knew that, too.

How long until he perceived him as a threat to his and his sons safety?

Long enough for the others to find him?

In that moment the door creaked and light fell into the basement from above. Reid blinked at the sudden strain to his eyes, then intentionally kept them shut while steps came closer. He knew it was childish but he really didn't want to face a situation in which Hotch was the one responsible for all this.

He wanted for him to stay his trusted chief and mentor, someone he could trust to fight at his side, for good.

He didn´t want to face what might happen now.

He didn't want to have to be scared of him.

But he was. His heart was beating frantically, so loud in his ears that he was sure the other must hear it, too.

Whether he wanted it or not, reality caught up with him when he heard his name being called.

"Reid? Are you awake?", Hotch asked quietly, his voice completely normal, steady and strong.

That, too, stung, considering how much Reid wanted to believe everything was indeed normal.

Knowing he couldn't pretend to be unconscious forever, Reid opened his eyes reluctantly. Hotch was standing a little to the right of him. He was wearing the same clothes he would show up to work with, but he had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. There was no blood on him now and not a hair was out of place. He still looked incredibly tired but apart from that he was just…Hotch.

One really had to look closely to spot the remains of dried blood underneath his fingernails. Reid shivered involuntarily as the image of Jack Mortinson´s death flash across his mind once more.

If Hotch registered his expression he didn't comment on it. Instead he tilted his head to the side a little, examining his forehead with his eyes.

"What´s today's date?", he asked out of context.

Reid stared at him, speechless for a moment, trying to find proof for his assessment earlier on Hotchs features. Even now, he seemed perfectly normal. If he handt calmly been standing there while reid was bleeding and cuffed to a pipe in a strange basement, he could have believed this was just another conversation.

"October 9th.", he finally answered, his voice a little hoarse but mostly steady.

Hotch nodded, immediately following that questin with another: "What´s your mother´s name?"

Slowly for his standards, it came to him what was going on. Hotch was assessing the severity of his head wound, seeing if he might have amnesia. By now, Reid really wished that had lasted longer.

"Diana Reid.", he murmured, eyeing the other man warily.

Asking this could mean Hotch was concerned about him, or it might simply mean that he hoped Reid wouldn´t remember what had happened. Too late to fake ignorance now…

So Hotch knew he was lucid. Until now, he seemed calm though, so maybe he shouldn't worry too much. Maybe he had already moved out of the delusional state he´d entered when killing Mortinson.

"Hotch…are you…?", he started to ask, but the older man interrupted him.

"How are you feeling?", he continued his round of control questions, and Reid decided to play along for now.

"Dizzy…my head…"

Hotch nodded thoughtfully, a slight crease forming in between his eyebrows as he mustered Reid.

"You have a moderate concussion from what I can tell. It´s nothing to worry about unless you fall unconscious again. Do you remember how you got that concussion?"

Reid stared at him apprehensively, not sure whether that was another control question or Hotch´s way of finding out whether he had to kill him. He briefly considered pretending to not remember, but that would rule out talking hotch out of his delusion. He would just have to risk it.

"Mortinson…he attacked me…I remember you…you shot him."

Hotch knelt down in front of him then, and Reid couldn't help but flinch. But he only put a first aid kit Reid hadn't noticed before aside on the floor and then looked at him apologetically:

"I'm sorry, Reid. I should have been there earlier to protect you from that bastard. He got what he deserved, but I was still too late."

Reid felt his insides go numb at that. The comment seemed innocent enough, but in truth it proved Hotch´s disassociation from reality. So they had been right about that too, Hotch was completely convinced that he was fighting for right here.

"You murdered him.", he said it again with more force, willing Hotch to see what he had done, what he should rather be sorry for.

It was stupid of course, going against every tactic he had ever learned. He was endangering himself by risking aggravating Hotch, it would be better to divert him or play into his delusion but this wasn't just some stranger and he just couldn't help voicing the distress he was feeling at seeing his mentor lose touch with reality like that: "I saw you beat him…I …how could you…?"

At his words, regret flashed across Hotch´s face and for a brief moment Reid actually thought his words had hit home. But Hotch´s answer made it very plain that he surely didn't regret taking Mortinson´s life.

"You shouldn't have had to watch that.", he murmured instead, ruefully: "I thought you had gone with JJ, otherwise I would have waited to confront Mortinson. But it was a good thing I did come before he hurt you any worse."

Reid bit his lip, desperately holding back a curse. Hotch might seem fine but he clearly wasn't. He might seem calm but that would change with more time passing since the last murder.

He had to get out of here. He had to get both of them out and Hotch help.

"You´re traumatized, Hotch.", he tried once more to make him see what was going on as long as he was somewhat lucid: "It´s not your fault; it´s Foyet´s –and ours for not noticing. We should have expected that you wouldn't just get over it. You're not thinking clearly right now, but that will fade within a couple of days, and you´ll feel better once we´ve gotten you the help you need."

He said it with certainty even though he was everything but.

It was true that some patients with these symptoms spontaneously recovered within days. But those usually hadn't slaughtered five men in the process.

Reid knew his share about mental illnesses, having grown up with his mother's schizophrenia, and he knew it was just as possible that Hotch would remain in a state of undiluted psychosis for years or at least experience the symptoms for a long time.

Still he couldn't help it; he had to at least try to get through to him. Nervously he licked his lips, shifting to a slightly more upright position despite the pain it caused.

Hotch was eyeing him darkly; it was impossible to tell if he was listening or just getting really angry.

"But you need to stop and think.", Reid continued despite the risk: "You need to stop hurting people because I know you will regret it later. Think of Jack…"

"I am thinking of Jack.", Hotch interrupted him rather harshly. He seemed less angry than just upset, scared for his little son. He gazed at Reid intently and without blinking: "I'm keeping him safe. It's the least I can do after getting his mother killed."

The mention of Hayley had guilt flashing across his face, and for a moment all Reid wanted to do was comfort him. But he knew that would have to wait until later, until they were both safe. And for that to happen he had to keep pushing.

"Yes, but you can't murder…", he started again, only to stop in midsentence when Hotch suddenly went from sad to furious in under a second.

He shrank back into the wall, the fear he had tried to suppress so far returning full force.

"That monster deserved to die and you know it, Reid!", Hotch all but growled, edging closer: "No one would have held him responsible if not for me. Now he won't hurt anyone ever again. Not you and not Jack."

Reid shook his head in determination despite his fear: "No one deserves to die that way, Hotch. Is that how you want Jack to remember you?"

"Jack will understand that I did what I had to."

"No, he won´t. Not when everyone around him tells him his father is a serial killer day after day.", Reid cried desperately, his hand straining against the metal holding it in place: "He will know that you should have let the police handle Mortinson…"

Reid knew it had been a mistake to contradict Hotch the moment Mortinson´s name left his mouth. Before he could do so much as blink, a hard hand was digging into his shoulder, pushing him roughly into the wall.

Reid gasped in pain, acutely aware that Hotch´s face was threateningly close now, complete with burning eyes and bared teeth.

"Damn it, Reid, he could have killed you!", Hotch snapped, his fingers cutting deep into the doctors flesh as he shook him: "Do you understand that? You could have died!"

He did. Reid understood perfectly well that he could have died. That he still could now.

His mind racing, he took a trembling breath in order to calm himself, before he forced himself to nod.

"Yes.", he managed to choke out.

The time for games was over. If he pushed Hotch any further there was no telling what he might do. So he stopped struggling against the fingers hurting him, and fought to wipe all signs of resistance from his face, letting it become soft and vulnerable.

The face of a victim. His best shot a survival.

"I do.", he added hastily: "I didn't mean to upset you. Thank you for saving me."

It worked.

Hotch looked him over for a moment, before his face finally relaxed somewhat along with his death grip on Reid´s shoulder. Seemingly placated by those words, he said: "It's okay, I know your head isn't too clear right now. It´s the blood loss."

Reid nodded in relief.

He was about to let himself relax when Hotch suddenly reached out for where Reid's leg had been bound off with a piece of cloth. He hesitated when Reid instinctively gasped and recoiled into the wall behind him, eyes wide and hands clenched painfully.

There was no sign of anger left in his expression now; just there was no sign that he understood why Reid was afraid. It was like he had already forgotten his outburst not a minute ago. Now it was just Reid´s mentor looking at him once more.

"I´ll be careful.", Hotch assured him as though that was Reid's worry: "Now don't move your leg."

Despite his heartbeat still rapidly pounding in his chest, Reid did his best to do as he was told. There was no saying what words or actions might set Hotch off at this point.

With swift and adept movement Hotch removed the cloth, carelessly dropping the blood soaked material next to him.

It was his suit jacket, Reid realized slightly baffled, just before all of his attention was focused on the knife suddenly glinting in Hotch´s right hand. Panic-stricken he shrank back, trying to get out of the other man´s grip.

Pain shot through his leg at the motion, momentarily blinding him. He moaned, very much aware that Hotch still hadn't released his hold on his limb. Moments later he felt the cold cutting edge of the knife touching his skin where the bullet had torn through his pants and caught his breath shakily.

"Please, no…", he cried softly, pressing his eyes shut and his face against the wall.

Yet Hotch´s grip on his leg only tightened, holding him still and then he heard the sound of fabric tearing. Cold air hit his thigh when the leg of his pants was removed, but no pain followed. Only when he heard the metallic sound of the knife being dropped to the floor did he dare open his eyes again.

Hotch hadn't seemed to notice him freaking out; he was leaning over him, closely eyeing the spot where the bullet had gone through his leg.

"You were lucky.", he stated matter of factly, before rummaging through the kit beside him: "The bullet just went into the muscle but it didn't hit the bone or an artery. It´s still bleeding but it won't kill you."

Reid just stared at him blankly.

He didn't feel lucky. Just like he didn't feel reassured because the bullet wouldn't kill him; not when he was sitting here with a deranged murderer.

"I´ll have to take it out though, or it´ll get infected."; Hotch murmured, oblivious to Reid´s inner struggle. The words had his insides grow cold again, crawling in expectance of things to come.

This time when the light reflected on something metallic, it was a pair of silver tweezers. Spencer froze once again upon realizing what Hotch was implying.

"No, you don't need to do that.", he shook his head, panic in his voice: "Just…just get me to a hospital, and they will…"

His heart fell when Hotch shook his head dispassionately:

"No, I can't do that. Not yet. I can´t risk them getting to me before I have brought Jack to safety."

Reid was staring at him with watering eyes, ready to start pleading with his co-worker. He could tell Hotch wasn't doing this to intentionally cause him pain, but it would hurt like hell nonetheless.

"Hotch, please don't, please I…"

"Don't worry.", his former chief briefly squeezed the part of his leg he was restraining, a comforting gesture that was completely lost to Reid: "I´ll be as quick as I can. I know how much bullet wounds hurt."

Something dark, probably another memory of Foyet flashed across his face then and Reid immediately stilled, paralyzed by the fear of triggering his psychosis and invoking his rage in this situation.

Instead he resorted to pleas once more, trying to get through to his co-worker: "Please, don't do this…I´m hurt, Hotch. I can't stay here!"

"You won't."; Hotch replied: "I´ll call an ambulance for you, but I can't do that before I´m done, not before I have punished that last one and gotten Jack to safety. You understand, right?"

Reid closed his eyes and tried to control his rapid breathing. There was nothing he could say that would make Hotch see reason now. This was going to happen.

"Yes, of course.", he whispered brokenly: "I understand."

"Good. Now, this will hurt for a moment. Do you want something to bite on?"

Numbly, Reid shook his head.

He´d had burning iron pressed to the bare soles of his feet without biting his tongue off. Still he wasn't eager to repeat the experience. Hotch went through his bag once more coming up with a water bottle and some white pills.

"Here, those are the strongest ones I could find that didn't need a prescription. They probably won't work right away but you should take them for afterwards."

Reid briefly considered refusing the medication, but then he caved in knowing he would want any kind of relief he could get soon. And so far Hotch hadn't given any indication that he wanted to harm or poison him. As it was he could only hope that his profiling was right.

With one quick gulp he swallowed all three pills at once, then he took a moment to soothe his dried up throat. Hotch sat back on his heels, waiting patiently for Reid to stop drinking. Then he took the bottle, put it aside and leaned in closer again.

Knowing what was going to happen, Reid couldn't help but whimper slightly and press his back even harder against the wall. He felt the cold metal graze his skin again and took a deep breath before gritting his teeth.

Then, without another word of warning, Hotch plunged it into his flesh igniting a wave of excruciating pain.

Reid gasped breathlessly, his free hand blindly reaching out and digging into the shoulder of Hotch´s shirt, whether to uselessly try to push him off or to find support even he couldn't tell as the torment went on, getting worse with every second.

He barely bit back an agonized scream as the metal moved inside of him, digging into the already aching wound in search for the bullet.

For what seemed like forever, Hotch worked intently over his thigh with clinical, swift movements. Reid could feel his fingers going numb and cold sweat cover every inch of his skin, sure that he was about to pass out when Hotch finally managed to pull out the bullet with one quick motion of his hand.

Reid sagged against him when he straightened up afterwards, his forehead pressing heavily against Hotch´s shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

Mercifully, the older man let him rest for a moment before grabbing both of his shoulders and helping him lean back against the wall.

"It´s over.", he told him almost soothingly, before gently prying Reid clenched fingers from his shirt: "I´ll put a bandage around it and something to suppress the blood flow."

Reid barely heard him over his ever pounding heartbeat rushing blood through his ears. The nausea, weak before, was now almost overwhelming and his head almost hurt as badly as his tormented leg.

There was a short sting when Hotch applied a disinfectant but he was already too far gone to even flinch. He could feel his fingers and toes going numb and knew that if he were to open his eyes he could watch his vision darkening.

"Hotch.", he croaked weakly. The ministrations to his leg stopped for a moment, indicating that he was looking up at him. "Please…you have to…"

"Don't worry.", Hotch´s voice sank in through the approaching fog, gentler than before if Reid could still give anything on his clouded perception.

Something was pressed against his wound, then he felt soft material grazing the skin there.

"No one else is going to get hurt if I can help it. They won't get to you… I will protect you, Jack."

Calloused fingers considerately brushed his damp hair out of his face, a comforting gesture that reminded Reid dimly of his childhood.

He was vaguely aware that Hotch must have stopped recognizing him within the last minute, that his delusions were taking hold of him with less and less time in-between –and what it meant.

He would have to kill again soon in order to restore the relative stability he had exhibited when he entered the room. He would kill again, and no one would be able to stop him.

_I´m not Jack_, he tried to say; _I´m Spencer_, but before he could force another coherent thought to conquer the agony that held his body in its grip, darkness claimed him once more, mercifully erasing everything for a while.

* * *

ooh, the poor baby. i dont know who i pity more, hotch or reid.

Reids analysis of Hotchs problem is taken from some medical page on the web, there may be mistakes as i have no personal experience with that sort of thing.

I´m pretty sure though that usually those patients wouldn´t return to being sane for a while after killing like hotch does, but i cant have him go completely round the bend just yet. i remember that one epsiode though where an unsub (the guy from malcolm in the middle) had similar symptoms after his girlfriends murder. of course, hotch does remember what he did, he just thinks its justified.

-right now i´m not sure whether to give jack an active role in the story; he is what drives aaron, but i´m not sure how to include him. tell me how you feel about that if you like.

hope you enjoyed the chapter, please R&R! Thanks!:-)


	7. Chapter 7

hey guys! alright so here´s chapter 7 :some more team action this time as reid is still out.

Again, thank you all for your comments and tips, I appreciate it! Keep it up :-)

* * *

It had been six hours since Reid had been abducted.

Morgan was standing in the bullpen, biting his lip while he stared blankly at the pictures of their victims in front of him. His fingers twitched with the urge to grab his phone and call Garcia for the tenth time since he had returned to the office.

Around him, the investigation was continued, with the added pressure of a new body and one agent abducted.

JJ was still a mess, blaming herself for Reid´s kidnapping and Morgan was almost starting to feel bad for snapping at her. Almost.

Prentiss and Rossi were out asking Mortinson´s neighbors if they had seen anything suspicious and Penelope was doing God knew what on her computer to help find Reid.

All Morgan wanted at this point was to join Prentiss and Rossi, but he still had a responsibility as unit chief and needed to coordinate the team so it could function.

He was looking at the victims´ files for the umpteenth time when Hotch walked into the office.

He looked just like he did every day, stern and somewhat distanced, yet different somehow in that he seemed somewhat edgy, disheveled even. His usually perfectly fitting dark suit was only half buttoned like he had put it on in a hurry and his hair was slightly tousled.

Morgan frowned at the sight. Given, it was three AM in the morning; but that was still something he had never seen on his boss.

So Reid had been right about Hotch not being himself; of course he had, he always was. The thought brought a new wave of anxiety mixed with guilt. He still hadn't talked to Hotch like he´d promised –but now he didn't have time to do so anymore.

Because he had to get Reid out of the hands of a serial killer. While Hotch chose just that time to not take work seriously.

Morgan gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his sudden anger at the other man for not even showing up at the crime scene that evening. He knew it probably wasn't fair but if his chaotic mind could rationalize staying mad at JJ, he surely could find enough reasons to be pissed at Hotch.

He got up and walked towards him with wide steps.

"Hotch. Where have you been? JJ´s been calling you.", he tried, but was unable to keep all irritation out of his voice.

Hotch glanced at him briefly, unimpressed by the accusation it seemed:

"I was out interviewing witnesses, just like you told me, Morgan."; Hotch replied somewhat irritated: "And when the business day was over I allowed myself to go home to tuck my kid into his bed."

"Do you know Reid´s been kidnapped?", Morgan pressed, only half listening to the man's defense.

Hotch nodded curtly, the frown on his face deepening:

"Yes. That's why I rushed back. Do you have any leads yet?"

"Nothing.", Morgan shook his head: "He must have surprised the UnSub when he came to kill Mortinson. The question is why he went to the trouble of kidnapping him, when he could have…but we haven't gotten any ransom notes, nothing to explain his motives."

"Maybe he thinks Reid can tell him how far the investigation is.", suggested a voice from behind Hotch and both men turned around to see Rossi walking towards them.

The older agent looked exhausted as he threw his coat over a chair but he didn't sit down. Instead he went to stand next to Hotch, continuing his explanation: "He might have gotten nervous since there is barely any informative media coverage. That, of course, is only because we don't know much. Emily is still looking for witnesses on the streets but I don't think that will help us in any way. No one saw anything as it was getting dark and they were told to stay off the streets."

"Damnit!", Morgan cursed non too quietly, his fist hitting the table as that hope was taken away too.

Hotch and Rossi looked at him in silence, never mentioning that his behavior wasn´t exactly protocol. They didn't seem surprised by it though; the whole team was used to Morgan being very protective of their youngest agent.

"We are trying our best here, kiddo.", Rossi said sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder: "If Reid is still alive we will find him. It´s just a matter of time."

"But what if he doesn't have that time?"

"We just need to hurry.", Rossi sighed, before turning to Hotch hopefully: "Have you found anything with the witnesses you interviewed?"

Morgan who had not really paid attention but gone back to staring at the case photos, looked up in surprise when there was no answer. Hotch hadn't moved in his spot, he was still standing next to Rossi with his eyes set on no particular point over the man's shoulder. When Morgan looked into them they were so completely blank that they could have belonged to one of their victims. He obviously hadn't heard a word Rossi had said to him; in fact he seemed at least preoccupied with some other train of thought.

"Hotch.", Rossi grabbed his arm, shaking him just a little: "Everything alright?"

He had to repeat the question and speak up before Hotch finally reacted. Not in a way that either of them had expected though.

"I need to speak with JJ.", he said completely out of context, his gaze still scanning the bullpen, likely in search of the blonde agent: "I need to take some time off, to be with Jack."

Morgan was sure that his mouth was agape as he stared at the older agent. He must have misheard, for sure. Hotch hadn't just implied going on vacation while Reid was fighting for his life somewhere.

He waited for him to add something or clarify the statement, to give it some –any sense, but nothing happened. With the realization that Hotch was indeed serious, his anger returned full force and this time he didn´t bother holding back:

"Now?", he exploded: "Did you not hear what I just told you? Reid´s been abducted! His blood was all over that room, Hotch! But you wouldn't know because you weren't there either!"

Hotch didn't even have the decency to look ashamed; he just looked at Morgan with an expression that might have been indifference or incomprehension. Before Morgan could say anything else, or yell to be more precise, Rossi grabbed his biceps, pulling him to the side rather forcefully:

"Morgan! Can I talk to you for a minute?"

With a lot of effort, Morgan kept from cutting into the last of his coworkers he hadn't antagonized yet that day. Becoming aware that some people in the office were actually looking at them now because of his loud voice, he did the only reasonable thing. He let Rossi pull him aside and by the time he looked around Hotch was already walking towards JJ´s office.

"You have to calm down, Morgan.", Rossi implored, his grip tightening momentarily: "We need you as unit chief to keep a cool head."

"He just said he was going to go on vacation, Rossi. Ten seconds after I said the words _Reid,_ _blood _and_ dead_ in the same sentence!"

Rossi just sighed exhaustedly, refusing to let Morgan´s ranting upset him.

"You didn't say dead.", he murmured, not sure if it was in Hotch defense or just to separate the concept of death from Reid for both of their sakes. It didn't seem to help morgan, who just scoffed in annoyance, still seething:

"Hell, isn't it always _death_ around here? I shouldn't have to…!"

"Listen, kid.", Rossi lowered his voice and gazed at him from under his bushy eyebrows like he was talking to a dangerously unstable person: "I know you worry about Reid. We all do. But it's not Hotch´s fault he got kidnapped."

"Well, he sure didn't help prevent it."; Morgan growled, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was a little calmer now, realizing for himself that blaming his friend as going to do any good no matter how relieved he felt shortly afterwards.

He wanted to stay mad at Hotch so he didn't have to focus on being mad at himself, for screwing up like this, for fighting with Reid, for letting him get kidnapped, for not managing his team. But he knew Rossi was right.

"Still, that doesn't mean he doesn't care any less.", the older man told him: "He has a lot to deal with right now. Cut him some slack. You've seen how distracted he is; having him out of the way is better as if his instability would endanger the progress we´re making. You need to find Reid and he has to take care of his kid."

"Alright.", he finally caved in, shrugging off the last of his rage. This wasn't Hotch´s fault. And blaming him wouldn't get him any closer to finding the UnSub.

"So what do we do now?", he went back to business: "Go over the witnesses again? It all seems so pointless."

"It´s almost three AM."; Rossi said, pointing at his wrist watch: "We should all get some sleep, so we have new energy tomorrow."

"I suppose.", even as he said it, Morgan knew he wasn't going to get any sleep. He wouldn't rest until Reid was safe. Literally.

He tried to smile at Rossi but it turned out to be more of a grimace: "You guys go ahead. I´ll just finish this up."

Rossi nodded and then walked over to his own desk: "Alright then, stay here and tell call me if you find anything new."

He took his time putting on his jacket and stuffing documents into his brief case while Morgan went back to staring at the crime scene photos.

"You know what I wonder, Rossi?", he eventually said quietly: "How did the UnSub know Mortinson´s location?"

That had been nagging at them all day, but they hadn't come to a conclusion that made sense so far. JJ couldn't remember anyone following them.

Rossi shrugged, kind enough not to mention that Morgan had asked him that question three times already over the day: "Maybe he followed JJ and Reid without them noticing?"

"JJ doesn't remember anything.", Morgan answered, also for the dozens time: "But even if he managed somehow: Tailing them would have been a shot in the dark, he couldn't have known that they were going to go see him, unless…"

"Unless its someone with access to this office."; Rossi concluded, suddenly awake.

Morgan nodded.

"I don't like the idea but it´s possible. Hold on a sec.", went through the files in front of him.

When he looked up again, there was alarm written all over his face: "Rossi, they're all marked in our files. All the victims have been in contact with the BAU for one case or another. It´s not one case that connects them but the BAU itself! How did we not make that connection? It´s someone who knows what those men have done; someone who knows they won't be punished by the state. He finds them in our system and kills them."

He got out of his chair with new energy, staring at his counterpart intently: "That's why we couldn't find a link! It´s us! We´re the link!"

He knew it made sense when Rossi didn't even second guess him. A jolt of excitement went through him; finally they could do something useful again, finally they were a step closer to catching that bastard.

Rossi seemed as agitated as himself: "So the UnSub is in our own rows.", he concluded gravely: "If that´s true this will be tricky. Who do we tell?"

"No one yet.", Morgan shook his head, pacing by his desk: "Only the six of us can know, otherwise the UnSub might find out, too."

"Alright if he works in this office that means he will have to come in tomorrow.", Rossi suggested: "We´ll seal of the building and check everyone. That way we also make sure he can't kill anyone else and if Reid is hidden somewhere he will be safe for the moment, too."

The mention of Reid took Morgan down a notch. He had been so happy to have a lead that he had almost forgotten that Reid might not have the time it took them to check everyone.

"Unless his injuries kill him you mean.", he murmured, sinking back into his chair when his knees suddenly felt like jelly.

Rossi just looked down at him empathetically:

"Come on, kid, you know it's the best shot we have at nailing this guy. Either Reid´s wound is fatal which means he is already gone or he is fine and will be able to hold on for one more day."

It almost sounded cruel to have the situation assessed that way but of course Rossi was right once more. It was their best shot.

"You´re right."; Morgan agreed reluctantly, rubbing his eyes: "Tell JJ first thing tomorrow."

Rossi nodded in relief. Suppressing a yawn he said: "I´ll go pick up Emily and get her home, too. Don't be too long, boss."

Morgan smirked at that as he watched his colleague leave the building.

He stood there for a moment, wondering what he could best be doing next and finally realized that Rossi was right. It wouldn't help anyone for him to be a walking corpse tomorrow.

He was about to grab his jacket and head out, when JJ and Hotch left the office. They went towards the elevator and Morgan hurried to follow them. They descended together in silence.

JJ seemed extremely uncomfortable during the silence while going down and at first Morgan thought it was because of him.

Then he noticed that she was shooting worried glances at Hotch every so often. They weren't the concerned looks Hotch got from everyone these days though; they were wary, like something had happened between the two that had unsettled her deeply.

He didn't get to ask her about it though because she hurried to her car the first chance she got and Hotch, too, left the building without another word to either of them.

Slightly bummed out, Morgan left the building and got into his car. That had been odd, even considering how the day had gone overall.

From a distance, he watched Hotch get into his car and drive off quickly.

Before Morgan had really thought of a concrete plan, his feet were suddenly moving and he got into his own car, driving after Hotch. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, if he would find it in himself yet to apologize to Hotch for his unprofessional behavior.

Still, he knew he couldn't postpone the conversation about Hotch´s problems any longer and he might as well have an opener. So he followed the older agent back to his house, parking across the street from his driveway.

There was light in the living room and when he looked through the thin curtains he could see Hotch pick up his little son and cradle him in his arms. The child was talking to him, pressing a little hand to his father's face and Hotch smiled at him, hugging him closer for a moment. Then he carried him out of the room and up the stairs. A moment later, the upstairs light went on for a minute, then turned off again.

Morgan watched the scene quietly.

Seeing the little family like that had had the last of his anger evaporate immediately and now he just felt lousy for giving Hotch such a hard time before. Jack was the most important thing in the world to him right now, and he had to make sure he was alright before everything else.

How could Morgan move heaven and earth to make sure the one he loved was fine and not grant the same right to his colleague?

For a moment he thought about just leaving and not bothering Hotch till morning, but then the house´s front door opened once more.

Surprised, he watched Hotch step up to the car, opening the back door to drop a bag on the seat. Leaving the door open, he went back into the house without closing the door. Morgan eyed that development curiously. It looked like Hotch was about to leave once more.

Where would he be going at three AM, leaving his sleeping kid all alone?

Quickly but quietly, he slipped out of his car and walked over to the black SUV, peeking inside. The bag was partly open, revealing some bottles of water, food and what looked like clean bandages in the dim light.

Morgan frowned, taking a closer look; there was something else on the backseat, next to the bag.

He reached for it and pulled out a brown satchel. He blinked when his eyes didn't convey the familiar picture to his brain properly. Then, ten seconds late, it hit him hard.

Reid´s satchel.

His bloodstained satchel to be precise.

For all but one second Morgan just stood there frozen; staring at the bag and the blood, his eyes wandering further to find the far back seat of the car also stained dark.

"What the…?", he whispered unbelievingly, absently shaking his head as he fought the realization that was sneaking up on him. His mind was spinning, going through every possible or impossible explanation of what he was seeing in front of him that didn't involve his boss being a serial killer. There had to be one. There just had to.

His eyes returned to the satchel, knowing that there was not much room for interpretation here. Reid had had it with him before he was kidnapped. And now it was in Hotch´s car.

Morgan violently pushed away any quick conclusions, refusing to think about everything that had been odd about Hotch for the past few weeks and how this would explain it beautifully.

"Oh…hell no!", he finally cursed, spinning around and jogging back to his car, his heart thumping almost painfully in his chest.

He couldn't do this alone, he was sure he wasn't seeing straight. He was alone and it was late…and maybe somewhere he was till mad at Hotch; but he wouldn't let his mind skip to such horrid conclusions over that.

He needed someone to anchor him, to show him reason where there wasn't any. He needed Rossi.

While one of his hands still held the satchel like a life belt, the only connection he had to Reid at that moment, he hastily ripped open the door on the driver's side. He halfway crawled into the car in order to get his cell phone out of the glove department. The he pulled out a bit, one shaking hand pressing into the driver's seat, the other typing and just as unsteady.

He had barely finished two likely mucked up sentences when there was a sudden noise behind him. He moved quickly to get out of his compromised position and see what was happening, but before he could straighten up or turn around, something hit him hard between the shoulders and the world fell away.

* * *

one more down, four to go. nah, i´m just kidding, this is the last agent going missing, promise (someones got to find them after all).

so morgan knows, lets hope he wakes up from that karate chop to the neck...again, i have no idea as far as technicalties go, i´m just making that stuff up. the drama, now that is mine. lol

**i´m not sure how morgan is going to react to hotch? he´s more impulsive than reid i guess, will likely be mad, i dunno. **

**what do you guys think would be in character?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ready for Chapter 8? **

**Just let me thank those who so kindly comment on my story, you guys motivate me greatly! **

**Now, there is mostly Morgan Reid interaction in this chapter, still no real slash (sniff) since, you now, the trauma and all. I tried to squeeze some in at certain points, tell me if you think its inapropriate at those points. I really want to write more about their relationship but i cant seem to figure out how to include it so it makes sense right now. Tell me if you have any ideas!**

* * *

Morgan woke up to a splitting headache and a dry throat.

He groaned softly, shifting uncomfortably against the hard, cold surface under his back and legs. His dazed mind was briefly confused with that fact, wondering why he wasn't feeling his sheets and blanket like usually. He blinked groggily, trying to orientate himself but couldn't seem to recognize his surroundings.

With that he was very awake within a split second, scanning the room for any immediate dangers. There was no movement he could make out in the dark, so he relaxed a little and took more time to look around.

He was sitting against the wall of a sparsely lit basement, cold creeping through even his leather jacket and boots. The only light came from a crack under the door that was somewhere to his right.

It didn't take him long to remember just how he had gotten into that position, the memory was vivid one his mind.

Despair and fear took a hold of him as he took a moment to breathe and digest the knowledge that one of the people he had trusted most in this world was now his enemy. Even now, everything inside him rebelled against accepting the idea of Hotch being a killer but he couldn't ignore what was right in front of him.

He had been at Hotch´s house where he had found incriminating evidence against his former boss, then he´d run off to talk to Rossi and someone had knocked him out none too gently. Considering the evidence, it wasn't hard to figure out who.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding…!", he cursed, running his a hand over his face in distress. And he had so hoped that he was wrong. But seeing as Hotch wasn't chained up next to him, it didn't look like it.

That new information was too much to handle even for him. He had been looking everywhere for the UnSub -only to be found by him instead. Now the others would stay in the dark –and who knew what was going to happen to him? If he had to guess he would say the same that happened to Reid. Whatever that was…

He thought of the blood on Reid´s satchel then. There was no way of knowing Reid was still alive by now, just like he didn't know if he would get out of here.

His throat tightened at the thought that there was nothing he could do now, that he might never see Reid again, let alone get him to safety just because he had stupidly run into a trap.

He squeezed his eyes shut in desperation, fighting hard for control. He couldn't lose it now. He didn't know that Reid was dead; there might still be a chance.

A realization that had been stuck somewhere in his head before suddenly hit him hard.

If Hotch was the UnSub that meant that he was the one who had attacked Reid, who had slammed him into a wall and shot him, who might be responsible for his death.

White hot anger quickly replaced his dread as he thought of how Hotch had just shown up at work after Reid´s abduction, letting them all worry while playing the good guy.

Morgan clenched his fists so hard that the skin almost broke under his fingernails. It didn't matter how long they knew each other, if Hotch had let anything happen to Reid, he couldn't guarantee for what he would or wouldn't do…

Something warm and soft suddenly brushed against his leg out of nowhere and he jerked, his breath hitching in surprise.

He looked down to the side of him to find a slender body curled up against the wall next to him, just inches between them. So he wasn't alone. He bent down to get a better look at what he had missed before due to its absolute stillness.

Light brown strands of hair shimmered in the little light there was and Morgan's breath caught in his throat.

"Reid!", he gasped, shocked, scared and relieved at the same time.

With his heart suddenly racing, he forgot all about Hotch and his anger. He reached for the unmoving figure; lightly shaking what he hoped was an arm or shoulder.

´_Please let him be okay…`,_ he prayed silently, as scared of getting a negative response as of not getting any.

There was a quiet rustling of clothes and Reid shifted restlessly at the touch, moaning softly. The black agent let out a sigh of relief at finding him alive. _Thank God…_

Still he worry didn't cease. He had yet to find out if he wasn't injured too badly…

His first instinct had been -and still was - to pull Reid into his arms, to hug him tightly and not let him go until he was absolutely certain that he wasn't just dreaming, but he was scared of moving him without knowing the extent of his injuries. So he contained himself and merely shook him again slightly, anxiously hoping for a verbal response.

Fear still had a steely grip around his heart. What if he couldn´t wake him up, what if it was too late…?

But eventually Reid did start to come around. For another moment he just lay there unmoving, then his breathing hitched and he tensed, weakly struggling to get out of his grasp.

"No…", he moaned, only half conscious: "Please…it hurts…"

The sound of fear in the young agent's voice sent another wave of fury through Morgan, as he thought of what might have happened while Reid was alone down here. Reluctantly, he loosened his grip, calling Reid´s name instead to fully wake him up.

"Hey, it´s okay.", he whispered softly, bending further down: "It´s me, Morgan. Reid, can you hear me?"

"Morgan?", Reid finally croaked, clearly disoriented.

A hand appeared out of the dark, feebly reaching out and grasping the sleeve of his jacket. Morgan tried his best to sound reassuring while he put his hand over Reid´s and squeezed it gently.

"Yeah, kid. I´m here. You´re safe."

Considering their current situation that last part wasn´t completely true but he wanted badly to reassure the young man. Plus, in a way it was true. With Morgan here nothing else would happen to Reid, he wouldn't allow it.

"Thank God.", Reid breathed out in relief and Morgan knew immediately that he´d understood wrong.

Before he could clear that up though, Reid whispered almost to quietly to hear: "I knew you´d come…",

It sounded so happy and thankful that Morgan wanted to kick himself once more.

"Yeah, well, I had planned it a little differently but…"; Morgan murmured quietly, not wanting to upset his friend.

Reid sounded much calmer than he had acted, but maybe that was just beacause his voice was still so frighteningly thin, fading in and out of its original color. And slowly, he seemed to realize that something was off, too.

"Morgan, why...why is it so dark? Aren't we…?"

He shifted uneasily, his fingers twitching in Morgan´s grasp. Right, Morgan remembered, his heart sinking: Reid was scared of the dark, to make matters worse for him…

Instinctively, Morgan clutched Reid´s hands tighter, wrapping his other hand around it as well to show him he wasn't alone.

He wanted to do more, to run a hand through Reid´s soft hair, stroke his cheek, but he simply didn't dare. Letting his hidden emotions run freely now might upset Reid even more if he were to notice; plus, Morgan couldn't focus on that right now. Not when they were still very much in danger.

So he contented himself with holding Reid´s hand and contemplating an answer to his question that didn't sound all too hopeless.

"No, we´re in some basement, I´m sorry.", he explained reluctantly, before quickly adding: "But it will be alright, it'll be over soon. The others are coming here to get us."

At least they would as soon as they figured out where_ here_ was.

"Oh.", Reid breathed after a moment, clearly crestfallen. He didn't really seem to believe Morgan's promises, but then, Morgan didn't either.

The older man could hear his friend's fast, uneven breathing in the darkness beneath him, unsure whether he would rather they resulted from fear than from injury.

He still didn't know just what condition Reid was in and decided to ask now; it would hopefully distract the both of them for a bit.

"Are you alright?", he asked: "Are you hurting?"

Of course he was. He knew it was a stupid question but he couldn't help himself. He tried to assess the degree of Reid´s wounds but found that he had difficulty seeing anything clearly in this light.

Meanwhile, Reid shifted against him again while apparently trying to push himself up on his elbows. He failed, wincing as if in pain.

Quickly, Morgan helped him sit back against the wall and then just lean against it for a moment with his eyes closed, his breath coming shakily and uneven.

"I´m fine.", Reid assured him, sounding exactly the opposite: "I have a concussion and a bullet wound in my leg, but I'll live."

Morgan could barely keep from telling Reid that the words _fine _and _bullet wound_ didn't go together in a sentence; but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep the sheer fear he felt out of his voice.

"Let me see.", he demanded instead, inching closer. He more felt than saw Reid flinch and pull away from the touch of his hand rather abruptly.

"It's too dark, Morgan.", he simply told him, but Morgan could have sworn that his voice was shaking a bit saying that.

Again he pondered what might have happened to Reid while he was alone, and he had to push his returning anger aside forcefully. If Reid was already on edge it wouldn't help to throw a fit right in front of him.

"Well, then at least tell me if you feel like you're in immediate danger.", he backed down, keeping his voice even.

Reid just sighed heavily but at least he didn't try to pull away anymore: "My head hurts, the leg is a little better than before as long as I don't move it…because of the painkillers I got to take… I lied down for a while because it was easier on the wound…must´ve passed out…"

He didn't elaborate and Morgan made himself just listen for the moment. His eyes had adjusted enough by now to make out some of Reid´s features. The young doctor seemed a little more stable now, at least emotionally, which would make it easier for him to get them to safety. He listened quietly, while the other part of his brain was looking for a plan.

"That helped I think…I couldn't before because I was handcuffed…you know…", Reid went on.

There was a faint sound of knocking against metal above their heads, as Reid pointed towards the water pipe. Then he chuckled mirthlessly: "…but since I can't even sit up by myself anymore, apparently I'm not perceived as a risk any longer."

Morgan didn't have to see Reid to believe that without hesitance. One thing was clear, if he was going to get them out of here somehow, he was pretty much on his own.

"How did you get here anyway?", Reid suddenly asked almost to quietly to hear; still; Morgan thought he heard apprehension in his voice and was pretty sure what that was about.

"I wanted to talk to Hotch and found your bag in his car. I was about to tell the others when someone knocked me out from behind.", he explained, still annoyed with his own stupidity.

Reid nodded slightly to himself. "Have you…is the team any closer to finding the killer than before?"

Morgan knew he was asking if they could actually hope for rescue; but it wasn't only that.

"It´s him, isn't it?", he said instead of an answer: "Hotch killed Mortinson and he locked us both up in here. You saw him."

Reid looked down, his tangled hair falling into his eyes. "He´s really sick, Morgan.", he told him guiltily: "Has been since Foyet. And I didn't know, I wouldn't see it…I could have saved those people, saved him from becoming…"

His voice broke and Morgan instinctively reached out to squeeze his shoulder. His hand ended up in the curve between his collarbone and neck somehow and as much as he tried to he couldn´t bring himself to remove it.

Luckily, Reid didn't seem to notice, so he went on with the conversation, trying to focus on their words: "Don't be silly now. We all screwed up. But we will get out of this and everything will be fine. And Hotch will have to pay for what he´s done."

He was surprised when Reid shook his head harshly, his eyes going wide: "No. I….It's not his fault, Morgan. He isn't himself."

"What do you mean, not himself?", he asked, confusion mixing in with his irritation. Reid bit his lip again, a sight that didn't exactly help Morgan stay focused. He made himself put more distance between them then, -just to be on the safe side-, covering it up by casually shifting his weight to his side.

"He´s delusional.", Reid explained in a pained voice: "He thinks he is doing a good thing. And that he saved me from Mortinson. And since you're here…I hope he sees you that way, too. As someone he wants to protect instead of harm…"

"So what, we just go along with anything he says? Is that what you've been doing?"; Morgan asked incredulously. He hadn't meant for it to sound like an accusation but he could Reid feel stiffen under his hand the moment he said it.

"I tried, Morgan.", he defended himself: "I tried to shake him up but I…he was just too…"

And there it was again. That tremor in his voice, like he was reliving a frightening memory. This time Morgan couldn't stop from asking, even if he feared an honest answer: "What did he do to you Reid?"

Reid just stared at him for a moment without blinking, his eyes glassy as if he were looking right through him somehow. Then, as if he just realized he had spaced out, he shook his head:

"Nothing. I...he´s just…", he struggled to find the right words.

He didn't have to though, as Morgan was about to see for himself. They both flinched when the door opened and the light was suddenly switched on.

* * *

SSA Rossi was getting more and more nervous by the second. It was almost 9 AM and everyone who worked at the BAU had arrived. Everyone except for Morgan and Hotch.

Something had to be wrong, he was sure of that.

Apart from Morgan seldom being late, he had also promised to be here when they went on lockdown. Now they couldn´t start with their plan because it would mean shutting two of their very few trustworthy agents out.

Disquieted, he went over to Garcia's office, seeing JJ´s blonde hair shimmering in the dimly lit room from afar. They both looked up at him when he entered, just as tired and worried as he.

"Have you seen Morgan yet?", Rossi asked, and was disappointed when they both shook their heads.

"No, sorry. I tried calling him but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he overslept?"

"He and Hotch both? That would surprise me. Hotch might be a little out of it lately but Morgan wouldn't sleep in knowing that time is running out for Reid."

JJ grimaced at that, uncomfortably rubbing her neck: "You´re right. About Morgan at least. Hotch, though…", she hesitated: "…I think we need to get him help once this is over. _A little out of it_ is really an understatement for how he´s been acting lately."

"Why, did something happen?"

"I…he came into my office yesterday, telling me that he wanted some time off. I asked him if that was really the best time and he got…just really aggressive about it. Plus, he kept abruptly changing the subject on me like he wasn't even listening to me. It was like he wasn't himself…"

"PTSD?", Garcia guessed helpfully.

"A severe case, if so."; Rossi mumbled: "You're right, we need to do something before he suffers a breakdown.",

JJ agreed silently, unconsciously hugging herself as she stared blankly at a computer screen.

"And we will.", Rossi was quick to further reassure the young woman: "First we save Reid, then Hotch. I will make sure Morgan talks to him right afterwards."

She nodded, smiling thankfully, before walking back into the bullpen. Only after she was out of sight did Rossi allow himself to let out a heavy sigh. Garcia wasn't surprised at seeing his enthusiasm fall away like the mask it was. They both knew this case had the potential to turn ugly real fast.

"Alright. We wait one more hour.", Rossi told her quietly: "Then I'm having you locate their phones. We don't need any more agents missing in action right now."

"Roger that.", Garcia agreed, already back to typing madly at her key board.

Morgan had better tell her he was okay soon; it wasn't like she didn't already have enough to worry about with her baby genius missing.

* * *

**See what I mean about the slash? **

**Oh well, maybe i´ll just have to do a seperate ficlet later that´s a slightly diffrent scenario than this one (you know, less blood). T**

**hey can still be locked up but making out, how´s that for an offer? lol**

**anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**First of all, thank you guys so much for your comments! Over 60, wow! Keep it up :-)**

**Now, heres the interaction between Hotch and Morgan. **

**Its a bit melodramatic I guess, but I dig that ;-) Bear with me, ok? And pardon Morgan´s language while you´re at it. Thanks.**

* * *

Morgan´s gaze was fixed on the door as soon as he was able to force his eyes open despite the harsh light. His mind was spinning, trying to decide how to act in a situation he hadn't had enough to time to prepare for.

With all he knew by now, part of him simply wanted to rip Hotch´s head off; on the other hand that would be extremely stupid and dangerous to both him and Reid.

Unable to make up his mind, he just stared at Hotch, waiting for him to set the tone of their future interaction.

The dark haired man was entering the basement, pulling the door shut behind him. There were two bottles of water in his hands along with a brown paper bag with grease stains on the bottom. He put them down on a table across from them, and then pulled out his gun and faced them.

Reid flinched next to him, whether because of the weapon or Hotch himself Morgan didn't know.

His own body froze briefly; but when Hotch didn't point the gun at them he tried to at least appear fearless, like he would with any UnSub. At the same time he shifted slightly so that he was in front of Reid just in case and fixed his gaze on Hotch´s.

Hotch followed his movements with his eyes, a flicker of a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth at seeing Morgan´s determination.

"I´m not going to shoot him, Morgan.", he said simply: "I´m just making sure you won´t feel like doing anything stupid."

"Oh, like you did?", Morgan scowled at him, still not breaking eye contact.

"Stop it…Derek…!", Reid was warning quietly but urgently, but he stayed fully focused on his opponent.

No matter what Reid thought about Hotch´s state of mind, it would be a mistake to show weakness now. That, and Hotch´s calm demeanor had his blood pressure going through the roof. How was it that he could be so…cold, so calm…while he was losing his head from worrying about Reid´s wounds?

"You should listen to him.", Hotch advised him coolly: "You don't want to become my enemy, Morgan. I wouldn´t be able to just let that slide."

Now that he knew, Morgan found it easy to spot the little differences in Hotch´s appearance. It wasn't so much his posture as his face; there was something shifty about it in the truest sense of the word. Different expressions seemed to flicker over it too quickly to categorize, a chaos of thought after distorted thought.

And yet, when he talked it was barely noticeable. Even as he spoke of shooting them his voice wasn't any different from how he talked when in the office.

"This isn't about you or Reid.", Hotch continued: "But I have to do what´s right and I will not let you interfere, do you understand? You two will stay down here until I'm done and none of us need to get hurt."

Morgan recognized the delusion Reid had been talking about, but he was too angry at those words to pay them any mind.

"Oh, yeah?", he hissed, furiously: "Like you didn't already do that! Look at…!"

He had turned around halfway to point at Reid and thereby really looked at him for the first time since the light went on.

All remaining thoughts of rational conversation were gone within an instant, as he just stared, frozen in horror.

He had assumed that Reid was lying about his state of health but what he saw shocked him nonetheless. The young doctor was so pale he could blend right in with the wall that seemed to be the only thing holding him upright; the shadows under his eyes were almost black now and it looked like he was shivering and sweating at the same time.

But that wasn't the worst. The whole left side of his face was covered in dried blood as were the better part of his pants and shirt. It was surprising that Reid was able to stay conscious at all, from what he could tell.

Seeing that caused Morgan's stomach to turn. So much for fine…

It was a fine line between wanting to grab Reid, to pull him close and try to comfort him - or letting his immense anger and hatred for the one who had caused his injuries run free. Considering they weren't alone, he chose the latter.

"How could you do that?", he hissed furiously, jumping to his feet.

Reid tried to grab his leg and pull him back but he was out of reach. Still, he struggled to get up and interfere.

"Morgan, I'm fine.", he pleaded in a hushed voice, clearly exhausted by the effort: "You´re only going to make it worse..:"

But Morgan didn't listen to him. He would be damned if he just sat still and let this go on. Hotch merely looked at him coldly, waving towards the wall with the gun he was holding: "Sit back down, Morgan."

"Or what, you gonna shoot me, too?", Morgan threw his arms in the air, venting his anger: "We were your friends, Hotch!"

If that struck a nerve he certainly hid it well.

"You _are_ my friend-", Hotch simply answered: "…and I don't want to hurt you so I´m telling you to sit back…"

"Fuck you!", Morgan hissed spitefully, fists clenched by his sides. The only reason he was still standing there instead of throwing himself at Hotch was the fear a shot might hit Reid accidently:

"If you want to shoot me do it! Having you as a friend doesn't mean anything looking at Reid´s condition."

Hotch frowned at that, clearly unhappy with the accusation. Behind him, Reid sounded like he was going to interject again but Morgan didn't let either of them interrupt his speech.

"What if it had been JJ with him, huh?", he asked, gesturing wildly: "Would you have shot her, too? Would you have let the rest of us tell her baby boy that she was killed by someone she trusted?"

He was almost glad when Hotch finally did get mad at his words; it was by far less frightening than his indifference. Now he only had to deal with a pissed off serial killer with a gun.

"I wouldn´t hurt her.", Hotch told him forcefully, losing his calm bit by frazzled bit, the hand with the gun clenching and unclenching: "I have a son, too."

It was stupid, he knew, but Morgan just couldn't seem to remember protocol over his fury. He stepped closer, eyes ablaze.

"And where is your son, Hotch?", he poured more oil into the fire he´d lit: "Is he home alone while you're holding your co-workers hostage at gun point?"

"Morgan!", came Reid's warning once again, more urgent in response to the darkening of Hotch´s expression.

Morgan ignored both, scoffing scornfully: "I´m right, aren't I? Well, that is going to be one fucked up kid with a father like…"

He didn't get to finish that insult.

Lightening quick, all restraint left Hotch´s features and all that remained was raw fury and agony. He struck out forcefully, hitting Morgan´s temple with the barrel of the gun so hard that the man staggered backwards.

Then he went after him, his arm lifted once more and Morgan, trying to regain his balance, already saw himself as the sixth victim of their UnSub.

Instinctively he raised his arms and averted his face, expecting the next blow. He could hear Reid scream and was more glad than ever that the kid wasn't in the line of fire here.

After a moment he heard Hotch curse, but there was no pain, no blood, nothing.

Confused, he opened his eyes and gasped at what he saw.

Somehow -he didn't see how it was even possible -Reid had managed to get up and throw himself at Hotch before he could strike out again.

"Reid!", Morgan yelled fearfully, but found that _he_ was ignored this time around. Reid was pale as a sheet, with sweat covering his forehead. He was one trembling and panting mess as he clung to his attacker.

Naturally, he didn't have nearly enough strength to actually do much but distract Hotch, but he clung to the man's arm, using his whole body weight to redirect the gun from Morgan´s head.

"Stop it…!", he rasped, staring at a now still Hotch out of wet eyes, his voice shaking as badly as his body: "This can´t be you! It´s Derek…Hotch, please stop…it´s Derek…"

He kept repeating those few words like a mantra, while Morgan stood frozen in shock, scared to move because it might set off Hotch once again. He just couldn't bring himself to risk that with Reid so close to the business end of a gun.

So he just stood there, staring, praying that Hotch´s hesitance wasn't just due to surprise.

Meanwhile, Hotch just looked down at his coworker, his expression unidentifiable, but he didn't try to shake him off or hit him. Which was a good thing, seeing that his arm was the only thing keeping Reid on his feet by now.

"Please…Hotch…", Reid pleaded once more, his voice thin by now, his cheeks suddenly wet. He obviously didn't care what he had to give up in order to stop him from hurting Morgan.

In any other situation, Morgan would have cherished the proof of how much he seemed to mean to Reid. As it was, his fear blocked out any other possible emotion.

He flinched terribly when Hotch lifted his free arm, ready to jump in and save Reid - but Hotch only lightly touched his cheek, wiping away desperate tears. He didn't say anything, but the message was clear anyway.

Reid let out one sigh of relief before all tension suddenly left his body; his eyes rolled back in his head as he sunk down bonelessly. Hotch quickly caught him around the waist as his grip slipped, keeping the unconscious man from hitting the ground.

Morgan rushed forward but was stopped by Hotch´s gun held to his face once more. With enormous effort he made himself stay still, his eyes flickering from Reid´s face to Hotch´s and back.

"What did you do to him?", he hissed, torn between panic and hatred.

Hotch merely looked at him in annoyance: "Nothing. It´s his leg, he shouldn't have moved."

He mustered Reid and then Morgan, his eyes still glowing angry but much more controlled and lucid again.

"Sit back down.", he finally growled: "This is the last time I´ll tell you to."

Reluctantly, Morgan obliged.

He backed up several steps until he could feel the cold surface of the wall grazing is back. Hotch tossed him a pair of handcuffs and he caught them instinctively.

"Put those on, one side on the water pipe there.", he was instructed: "That will be safest for all of us."

Morgan gritted his teeth as he closed one cuff around his wrist, then he hesitated, looking at Reid again. Hotch sighed impatiently, shifting his weight so that he could pick the unconscious man up into his arms.

"The sooner you do it, the sooner you can take care of him."

Despite the tone, it was an unspoken promise that Morgan had to believe in.

There was no other choice for him at this point; he would have to trust in Hotch concerning Reid - as wrong as it felt. By now, his rage was gone and he only felt regret and fear. It had been so stupid to make him mad like that…and now Reid had to suffer for it.

He slowly sat down, his eyes never leaving the hand that was holding Reid and the gun at the same time.

Hotch waited till he heard the click of metal before he tucked away his gun and came over with Reid still on his arms.

"Don't be stupid now.", he warned Morgan as he knelt down slowly.

Morgan didn't move while Hotch carefully lowered Reid to the ground so he was sprawled over Morgan´s lap. As soon as he let go, Morgan pulled the unmoving body into his arms, trying to shield what he could of him in his position.

Hotch just knelt in front of them, momentarily watching Morgan pull Reid´s torso against his shoulder with the free hand and holding him up carefully. The young man remained unconscious, his head limply falling into the crook of Morgan´s neck.

Then he said: "I´m going to go now. You can take care of his head wound with the cloth and water I brought."

There was nothing remotely aggressive in his tone now, but then, he wasn't exactly focused on Morgan either. He had never seen Hotch look at Reid with this degree of affection before now and he wasn't sure what to make of it. At the same time he was glad that Reid had this effect on him; it would hopefully protect him in case Hotch lost it and killed Morgan.

Only when Hotch´s eyes locked on his did he realize that he hadn't answered him. Grudgingly, he nodded.

"Good.", Hotch nodded in turn, getting up and wiping his palms on his pants: "I have some unfinished business now. You reminded me that there is someone out there who is a danger to the ones around him."

He didn't seem to notice Morgan tensing at the notion that he was planning on killing again, but just kept talking: "Once I've taken care of that, I will go get my son and leave the state. I´ll send you an ambulance once I'm gone."

"How gracious.", Morgan couldn't help but scowl disdainfully. He stared at the other man darkly for a long moment, as if trying to make up his mind.

Then he threw the rest of his caution into the wind. It couldn't get much worse anyway.

"…I will have more important things to do once I get out of here.", he said, his hands tightening briefly around Reid´s shoulders: "But make no mistake. I will track you down and bring you to justice, you can count on that."

He had half expected Hotch to get mad again, had shifted so that his blow wouldn't accidently hit Reid, but Hotch merely scoffed at his words:

"You shouldn't waste your time on me, Morgan, there are criminals out there that are waiting to be caught. Plus, you're right; you will be preoccupied for a while."

There was no telling whether he was joking or if he really believed what he was saying; either way Morgan was more concerned about the fact that he then glanced down at Reid. He smirked faintly when Morgan immediately pulled him even closer to his chest.

"_That_ is what I'm counting on.", he commented confidently.

Fear surged through Morgan as he tried to remain calm on the outside.

He didn't like the look Hotch was suddenly giving him, that way-too-knowing-smile and he didn't like the man's attention shifting to Reid at the same time. Hotch must have noticed anyway or maybe he just knew all along, judging by his next words:

"I know you think I've lost touch with reality, Morgan.", he got up and walked over to the table: "But I see clearer now than ever. What I did needed to be done; there was just no one brave...or desperate enough to do it."

He turned around, carrying the water and a small towel over to them.

Morgan just stared up at him in silence.

"Think of me as a psychopath if it helps you cope, but that is not what I am.", Hotch shrugged, sounding disturbingly sane once more: "I care. And I killed those monsters because of that. Because I would do anything to keep my son, the thing I love most in this world, safe. I'm sure you understand the feeling."

He looked at Reid again then, before putting the things down within reach. The gaze he fixed Morgan with was suddenly too sharp, too piercing to hold.

Morgan held his breath, dreading to hear what he feared.

Hotch just nodded like Morgan´s expression was all the proof he needed: "You think I don't know you love Reid more than just a little brother? We´re all profilers, Morgan. I saw that in you long before you figured it out yourself - and you didn't see anything wrong with me until it hit you in the face, but I'm the one who needs help?"

There was a long silence. Hotch looked down at him, maybe expecting an answer, maybe just lost in thought again while Morgan sat on the ground, frozen into position.

He was scared to say one more word, scared to breathe even. There was nothing he could say to that, nothing he could do except pray that Hotch wouldn't use his knowledge against him.

After a while, Hotch silently turned around and left the basement without another word.

* * *

***snif* *feels bad* **

**Well, Hotch is switching between sane and not so sane episodes faster and faster now. And with Morgan aggravating him like that he will need an outlet. **

**We´ll see if the team can stop him before he finds one. The next chapter will mostly be the team´s investigation; I dont know when it´ll be up yet though...**

**Hope you liked it! TTFN**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! **

**Sorry it´s been a while since my last update, I´m afraid that´s about to get worse as I will be very busy with moving and college for the next two weeks or so. It sucks but I will try to write when I have the time.**

**This will be mostly the team taking action. The enxt chapter will be Reid and Morgan centric again.**

**Please R&R :-)**

* * *

When noon came around, Rossi knew they couldn't wait any longer.

Neither Morgan nor Hotch had shown up and the rest of the team was beginning to get restless knowing they were possibly in the same building with a serial killer.

They would have to trace them after all.

Garcia wasn't alone, Prentiss and JJ were with her talking quietly; neither of them looked surprised when he entered the office again, a little guilty maybe.

"I already traced them, sir.", Garcia admitted, pointing to her computer screen. "I was worried…"

"It´s alright. It saves us time.", Rossi told her reassuringly: "So what did you find?"

"Their work phones are untraceable so that got me nowhere, but I tried Derek´s private cell number. The phone is located in Hotch´s street."

Rossi raised a questioning eyebrow: "So they are at Aaron´s place? Why aren't they contacting us then?"

"I don't know, sir, I called Hotch´s home number, too, and no one is answering."

Rossi nodded, really beginning to worry now. "Alright, thank you, Garcia. I´ll drive by there right now and see what´s going on. Emily, you´re coming with me."

Prentiss nodded, grabbing her jacket from the table. Then she followed Rossi outside, after he had instructed JJ: "Everybody else stays here. No one leaves the building. We don't want to accidently let out the killer. You two keep doing background checks for all our agents, look for recent stressors."

The two blonde women nodded and went back to work as soon as the door closed.

They saw Morgan's car parked across from Hotch´s house the moment they drove into the street. Rossi parked next to it and walked towards it with Prentiss at his heels.

First, they looked inside to see if Morgan might have fallen asleep in there. Nothing though, it was empty.

"Emily, go see if someone answers at Hotch´s.", he asked and the dark haired woman hurried over to ring her boss´s door bell.

Meanwhile, Rossi tried to open the car door and found that it wasn't locked. He held his breath, suddenly even more sure that something was wrong. Morgan wouldn't have left his car unlocked.

He searched the inside for anything that might give them a clue to what was going on.

There was something small glinting under the steering wheel next to the gas pedal and he bent down swiftly to pick it up. It was Morgan's phone and it was set to the message menu. Apparently, Morgan had been writing a message but not sent it for some reason as it was still on the display. Rossi skimmed through it and froze when he realized what it said.

´_Rossi. Reid´s satchel + blood in Hotch´s car. Need u here don't know what to…´_

That was when the message was suddenly cut off in mid sentence, as if he hadn't had a chance to end it for some reason.

Rossi stared at it incredulously for a moment trying to process what this meant. Then he whirled around towards the house. Hotch´s car wasn't in the driveway.

"Prentiss!", he yelled, suddenly highly distressed, relieved when she stuck her head around the corner. "Get back here now!"

She looked irritated but complied anyways, jogging towards him with questions on her face: "What?"

He handed her the phone wordlessly and watched the house while she read the message. There was no outward sign that anyone was home.

"What the hell does this mean?", she cursed, looking at him in alarm, because like him she already knew what it meant.

"It means we know who the UnSub is.", he answered, pale faced as though he was going to be sick.

JJ looked up from Garcia´s screen when her phone rang, disturbing their work silence. "Jareau.", she answered it, a frown immediately marring her face while she listened to whoever was talking.

She hung up with a frustrated sigh.

"They just found anther body.", she informed Garcia: "Apparently the beating was much more brutal this time. Evidence of overkill."

"He´s spiraling out of control.", Garcia concluded, jumping to conclusions already: "So does that mean the killer isn't here in the building after all?"

"It depends."; JJ shrugged: "They haven't determined the ETD yet. Still, we need to tell Rossi and Prentiss."

She was about to dial a number on her phone when it suddenly rang.

Surprised, she answered it, worry immediately setting in when she heard Rossi's stressed voice. She didn't get the opportunity to report their newest victim, because Rossi didn't give her the time to before he launched into his own report.

JJ blanched with every new word she heard: "What? And neither of them is there?... A message, what did it…?...No. No, Rossi that is impossible, he wouldn't! ... I…I understand, we´ll be there as soon as possible."

She hung up, sinking into the nearest chair and simply staring into space. Garcia got up and took her hands in worry: "JJ, what´s going on?"

The blonde woman looked at her co-worker with tears in her eyes, shaking her head as though she couldn't bear to speak. Even Garcia´ s voice couldn't seem to shake her up.

Finally though, she got herself together and rose to her feet, grabbing her discarded blazer. She wouldn't look Garcia in the eyes as she hurried to the door, eyes cast to the floor.

"The UnSub isn't in the building…", she choked out: "It´s Hotch."

The BAU team- or what remained of it at this point- was assembled in their former boss´s living room, forensics and a small SWAT team swarming all around them. They did their work quickly and quietly considering they hadn't been allowed to turn on the lights.

Everyone else was standing where they couldn't be seen from the street, trying to see in what little light shone through the heavy, closed curtains.

Rossi had felt the responsibility to take the lead after both Hotch and Morgan were gone, which was a good thing as Prentiss´s head was all over the place and JJ just listened apathetically when she wasn´t crying.

The revelation that Hotch was in fact their killer had hit all of them beyond hard, especially with the newest victim and his condition. The realization that Hotch must also have abducted Reid and Morgan stung even worse. Neither of them could close their eyes without seeing pictures of their friends bludgeoned in some dark alley.

"But why…how could he…we never…", JJ mumbled for the dozens time from where she was sitting; no one actually bothered to answer anymore and Emily just squeezed her shoulder empathetically.

"Do you think it was a mistake to stay here?", she asked Rossi, her expression grave but also worried: "If he sees us here he might take off and we´ll never get to him."

The old profiler shook his head no.

"It is a risk, but he won´t immediately know we´re here; everyone is being very quiet and cautious. Plus, the forensic evidence is our best shot at finding out more right now.", he told her firmly: "And we had to be sure Reid and Morgan weren't hidden somewhere in here."

JJ sniffled quietly at the mention of their names. The SWAT team had searched the entire house, finding not a single soul anywhere. Neither Morgan and Reid, nor Hotch or Jack.

"Do you think he already took off for good with his son?", Prentiss asked reluctantly, knowing that in that scenario Reid and Morgan were probably dead already.

"I don't hope so."; Rossi answered quietly: "After all, all their clothes and papers are still here. He has to come back, at least if he wants to go over the border."

Just then the back door creaked open and they all froze on their spots. Someone entered the dark house, their steps seeming unnaturally loud in the sudden silence as they approached the living room.

The SWAT team immediately went into position, swiftly cocking their guns while everyone else waited with their breaths held.

A moment later the living room light was turned on and the room exploded with shouts and screams.

A woman´s screams to be exact. Almost instantaneously they heard a small child starting to cry and knew something wasn't right. It wasn't Hotch.

"Stop! Hold it!", Rossi shouted over the raucous as he spotted a young woman with small boy on her arms that was now crouched against the wall with terror filled eyes.

"Jessica!", JJ jumped up from her seat on the couch, hurrying past the guns and masks that were scaring her: "Jack! Oh, thank god!"

It took a moment until everyone had quieted down again, all guns had been lowered and Jessica had quieted down enough to let JJ lead her to the couch. Then she just sat there with Hotch´s son clutched to her chest, staring at them with wide eyes as they started explaining to her what was going on.

Once they got to the more gruesome details, JJ was mindful enough to pick up Jack and carry him outside.

They had already decided to bring him to a safer place in case Hotch would show up and it came to a violent end. He was entrusted to a female officer and soon dozed off in her car while she prepared to take him away.

When JJ returned to the living room, Rossi was in the middle of coming up with an improved strategy while Jessica was trying unsuccessfully to process what she had learned about her brother in law.

"So you´re saying Hotch left Jack with you yesterday night and the night before, and he´s coming here today to pick him up?", he asked Jessica just then.

The woman nodded, all wide eyes and trembling hands: "He was going to call me first, to let me know when he´d be here. And then he was going to take Jack…"

She started sobbing then and Rossi stood up again to hold council with Emily, JJ and the SWAT team leader. As hard as this certainly was, they couldn't let their emotions get the best of them. Too many lives depended on them.

"We should wait for him to call.", Rossi suggested: "Let her tell him to come here. If we can surprise him the chances that no one will get hurt are best."

Emily threw a side glance at Jessica, one eyebrow raised: "You really think she can do it?"

"What other choice do we have?", Rossi frowned, not very enthusiastic himself: "If this doesn't work Hotch could get hurt or worse…even if he is the UnSub, there must be a reason…we need to give him a chance to explain. And he needs to tell us where Reid and Morgan are."

It was obvious that Rossi felt just as miserable about perceiving his old friend as an enemy but he also had a job to do. And other, non-murderous friends to save.

"Alright, let´s do it then.", Prentiss agreed, walking over to Jessica in order to brief her.

Not fifteen minutes later everybody jumped when the phone rang, setting them all on edge. Jessica picked it up with trembling fingers, taking a shaky breath.

"You can do this.", Rossi reassured her: "Remember what we talked about. I´ll coach you."

Seeing as Hotch´s phone was untraceable, they would have to catch him at the house. It was their only chance.

Jessica finally answered while everyone around her froze into position.

"Hello?", she said breathlessly, fidgeting with the phone cord. Rossi smiled at her reassuringly, hoping it would at least appear somewhat confident.

Then Aaron Hotchner´s calm, dark voice filled the room: "Jessica, it´s Aaron. I´m coming to pick up Jack right now. Are his bags packed yet?"

"Uhm, no.", she stuttered, clearly nervous: "I…I didn't get a chance to pack yet…we…went for ice cream."

"Oh, well, could you do it now? I really want to leave as soon as possible.", Hotch told her.

"Of course.", Jessica agreed.

So far it was going well. Now she just had to hang up and they could get ready. He was about to give her sign when Hotch asked a question that threw them all off.

"Thank you. Let me talk to Jack, please?"

Jessica froze, frightened indecision on her face as she stared at the agents around her for help. Rossi waved at her urgently, telling her silently to make up a lie.

"Uh, sorry, he´s eating…", she stuttered.

When Hotch answered there was an edge of irritation in his voice: "Since when does he mind talking with his mouth full? I´ll be quick, put him on."

"He…ah, I forgot, I told him to go wash up for the trip. He's probably in the bathroom. Why…why don't you talk to him when you get here?"

"In the bathroom…by himself…?", he sounded truly unnerved now, and it wasn't only because his kid might be drowning that very moment. It was obvious that he found Jessica's behavior out of character.

"Jessica, what's going on?", he asked urgently, ever the profiler.

Rossi cursed silently. She would blow it, he should have known. But now it was too late.

"Nothing.", the woman tried to save their plan: "I'm just… going to miss you when you're gone."

That sounded weak even to him. To Hotch aswell, it appeared.

"It´s only a weekend.", his voice sounded strained now, suspicious almost. He knew something was wrong.

"I know…I just love Jack…and you...I…", and Jessica broke into tears again, her voice cracking even though she tried to prevent it.

JJ tried in vain to stifle the sound by putting a hand over Jessica's mouth, making a panicked _shht _sound.

Instead of helping though, that just made it worse.

"Jessica, is someone with you?", Hotch asked and there was no doubt now that he was alarmed. They could hear tires squeaking in the background; he´d either stopped or already turned around.

_Damn it_, Rossi thought, feeling like he could hit something right then.

Jessica kept talking but it was already too late.

"Aaron…I…"

There was a clicking sound and the line went dead. Hotch had disconnected the line, leaving no doubt why.

The silence around them was broken immediately, shouting and yelling erupting once again.

"Spread out in pairs.", the SWAT chief instructed his people: "He can't be far from the house. Go, go, go!"

They ran from the room, leaving only four very distressed people behind.

Four people who now had to deal with the realization that a former friend of theirs was out there -maybe about to kill two other friends along with more innocents, and there was nothing left they could do about it.

* * *

**Yep, they effed up big time. Well, here´s hoping Hotch doesen´t lose it now that his son is gone. (I havent got a solid plot as of yet, so I will be as surprised as you guys :-) Depends on what would work best.)**

**Anyway hope you enjoyed it. Until...well, not soon but at some point.**


	11. Chapter 11

**hey, you guys! alright, here is chapter 11 for you. **

**sorry it´s been so long, i´ve been terribly busy. i wrote it all in one go today, so pardon any mistakes.**

**i probably still wont have much time the next two weeks, so i dont know when i´ll get to write the next chapter, coz there some planning involved with the plot and all. **

**if you want me two i can upload some shorter CM one shots that are more on the humerous side so the wait isnt too long. let me know.**

**we´ll anyway, hope you enjoy it, please R&R! Thanks!**

* * *

With nothing but cold and darkness around him, Morgan had nothing to keep track of time except for Reid's shallow breaths disrupting the silence.

He figured it had been at least an hour since Hotch had left and he still hadn't quite gotten over the shock of that close encounter. He didn't know which was worse: the guilt he felt for aggravating the man enough to make Reid step in at his own expense or the guilt of knowing that another man was about to fall victim to Hotch because he hadn't been able to contain himself.

He closed his eyes against the darkness, trying to stay rational and goal oriented. He had –with some difficulty due to his restraints and his inability to see- tended to Reid's head wound, cleaning it carefully with a cloth and some bottled water. Then he´d checked if he had popped any of the stitches on the bullet wound during his stunt earlier but found that they seemed okay.

During all of this, Reid had not regained consciousness but remained lifelessly sunken against Morgan's chest, his shallow breath the only indicator he was still alive. And while in any other situation he would have been ecstatic to have Reid so close, now it only scared him more because it meant that he wasn't even lucid enough to push him away if he wanted to.

It was all Morgan could do not to try and shake him awake, to make sure that he could; but he knew that even if he were to wake Reid, it would only cut into his much needed respite and help neither of them.

Still, the other man´s health was worrying him more and more with every second that passed. He had been beyond weak due to his blood loss and head trauma even before he had jumped Hotch. Now his respiration sounded even more erratic. His forehead was covered in cold sweat and he was shivering.

Careful not to disturb him, Morgan lifted the hand nearest to Reid´s face to press it against his cheek, then his neck.

Damnit, he was burning up and freezing at the same time.

He absentmindedly combed some damp strands of soft hair out of Reid´s face while wondering if the fever had been so intense when they had first awoken.

He didn't put it past Reid to try and downplay even that. But then, there was really no way he could have known without touching him or seeing him, both of which he hadn't. And even now that he knew, there was nothing much he could do.

So instead he held Reid closely but gently, trying to block out some of the damp coldness of their prison with his own body temperature. He took the cloth again to cool Reid´s forehead some; the young man shivered at the additional cold and unconsciously buried himself deeper in the warmth of Morgan´s embrace.

Morgan put the cloth away with a sigh, trying not to notice the feel of Reid´s flushed skin against his own or the occasional soft moan against his ear, only intensified by the dark enveloping them.

Instead he decided to distract himself while he waited.

His thoughts wandered back to the team; wondering if they had found his message, praying they would believe him.

He remembered how hard it had been on him, trying to see Hotch as something other than a friend. But if they didn't, he and Reid would never be found. Alive, that was.

He was just thinking about ways to get them out of here should Hotch not come back –preferably one that didn't involve chewing off his own hand –when Reid stirred in his arms.

Just like the first time he had awoken, he started upon taking in his surroundings: the dark, the cold, arms around him that he couldn't place…

He tensed, hands reflexively pushing against Morgan's hard chest and tried to sit up hastily - which immediately sent him into a coughing fit.

_Great,_ Morgan thought desperately, _now he´s getting pneumonia on top of it all. No wonder, being cooped up down here in his condition…_

He tightened his hold on the young doctor, pulling him back firmly but not to aprubtly.

"Hey, shht.", he whispered against Reid´s temple soothingly: "It´s okay, kid. It´s just me."

Then he waited for the other man to piece together why he was hurting and scared and held in this unusual way by his coworker. Sure, Morgan could have removed his hands from Reid´s back and arms to try and make him more at ease, but he couldn't risk it. Reid was hurt and half frozen and disoriented, he could not risk letting him retreat into the darkness when he wouldn't be able to follow him should he black out again.

_No_, he told himself as his hand moved to hold Reid´s head in place against the crook of his shoulder, _it´s not for me. It´s necessary_.

Luckily, Reid didn't put up much of a struggle weaken and only half there as he was but simply let himself be pulled down again once he recognized his friend´s voice. He didn't ask what had happened this time, obviously very aware of his last encounter with Hotch.

"Where is he?"; he asked, his voice raspy and laced with underlying distress that he tried to hide. He was shaking even harder now that he was conscious, his teeth all but shattering as he fought to keep still.

"He left after you blacked out.", Morgan answered vaguely, shuddering at the memory.

Instead of responding, Reid drew in a shaky breath and at first Morgan thought he was chocking - until he felt wetness against his neck.

A little shocked, he looked down at Reid even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see his face, speechless as the younger man tried futilely to keep from crying.

Of course, Morgan knew it was a natural reaction to the kind of situation they were in for any normal person but he had seen Reid stay calm in much more dangerous ones. Usually the kid waited until he was safe at home to break down. So what was he…?

"I was so scared…", Reid suddenly choked out, his bony fingers digging into Morgan's collar with surprising strength: "How could you put yourself in danger like that? I thought I would have to sit there and watch you…d-die…"

He sounded so terrified that Morgan actually felt his stomach cramp up in guilt.

He pulled the shaking man closer in a comforting manner and waited a couple of minutes until he could be heard over Reid´s erratic sobs; then he murmured: "I´m sorry. I swear I am…it was stupid…I was just so angry…I felt so betrayed…so scared for you…"

He kept on talking calmly, hoping it would calm him down: "…but it´s alright now. Nothing happened; you saved us by talking some sense back into him."

"He was lucid again afterwards?", Reid asked hopefully, regaining some of his composure. At least the crying had stopped; now if only that terrible rasping sound would…

Reid lifted his head from Morgan´s neck and wiped his wet face with the palm of one hand; Morgan could feel his expectant gaze on him even though there was nothing to see for either of them.

He hesitated briefly. He didn't think he had it in him to tell Reid that he might just have another murder victim on his conscience. Or that Hotch was the farthest from lucid he had seen in a long time. Plus, Reid was upset enough as it was.

So instead he evaded the question: "He told me to take care of you and left us some supplies. I checked your wounds, they are just as before. Are they bothering you much?"

"No. Thank you.", Reid murmured, reaching up to carefully touch his forehead.

In the darkness he didn't notice Morgan's fingers next to his cheek until their skins met. Both men jumped slightly, if for different reasons and Morgan shifted his body so that his arm was still behind Reid´s back, just lower and nowhere near his face. He was glad that the dark covered his burning cheeks, but Reid seemed oblivious to his reaction anyways.

"Sorry.", the genius murmured, slightly embarrassed by his reaction: "I'm a little jumpy…with the dark and the…" - "…being kept prisoner by a psychotic murderer, right.", Morgan finished his sentence.

He more felt than saw Reid frown at his words: "He´s sick, Morgan. It´s not his fault."

Well, it certainly hadn't taken Reid too long to go from a complete mess to his usual stubborn self. It was as relieving as it was frustrating.

"Yeah, you said that.", Morgan scoffed, trying to keep his irritation at bay: "But –leaving aside that he almost beat me to death not an hour ago- you forget that I saw Mortinson´s living room, Reid. It looked like a homage to Jackson Pollock! Look at you now, you can barely sit up!"

He regretted his words immediately when Reid stiffened; obviously he would find that memory traumatic.

Almost immediately the doctor shifted from his arms which apparently took a lot of effort on his part and sat up as best as he could, wheezing and trembling, but determined. His blazing eyes were the only thing he could make out in the dim light.

Morgan internally scolded himself for starting yet another fight with Reid when he hadn't even apologized for the first one yet.

In the end, what did it matter if he was right? Why not let Reid have his opinion for now when all they could do was sit here and wait anyways?

He was about to apologize when Reid surprised him by explaining: "I know there was a lot of evidence of a struggle, Morgan. But Hotch didn't hurt me. Not on purpose. I was trying to tell you earlier…Mortinson attacked me –Hotch just tried to save me from him. The leg…was an accident."

Despite his good intentions, Morgan simply wasn't able to swallow the answer to that. It felt like it would scorch his throat if he did.

"Defend him all you want, Reid.", he replied, the grip on his shoulders tightening automatically when he felt Reid pull away from him even more. He knew it was the worst timing ever, but he had to make him see reason, he had to make him see that _they _were on the same side. Not Reid and Hotch.

"We all have had traumatic experiences.", he continued urgently: "But we didn't let our past destroy what defines us."

He would have liked to say more, but Reid silence told him that he wouldn't get far with accusations. God, how he wished for some light. If only Reid could see his face he would know that he wasn't speaking out of spite, that he was just as troubled by Hotch´s state.

If only he could see Reid´s face. Just because. Not because he needed to read his expression. The tension in his shoulders, the trembling of his body and his ragged breathing told him all he needed to know.

Reid was in no condition to argue. Unfortunately though, Reid didn't seem to realize that.

So instead, Morgan tried to reason more calmly: "The fact of the matter is that sick or not –Hotch is dangerous. He has to be stopped."

"Yes, so that we can help him get better!", shot back immediately, agitated and louder than before: "We´re all he has, we´re his team…!"

"Reid there is no…", Morgan started to say but was stopped short when Reid´s frame contorted in itself, suddenly wrecked by violent coughs that sounded vicious even to his ears. He reached out reflexively when Reid fell back against his chest, his body protesting his sudden movements by beginning to shut down even more.

"Never mind. Never mind…", he said as he tried to support the fragile agent as best as he could, waiting for his breathing to even out. Reid did not to try to sit up again. In fact, Morgan almost worried that he had lost consciousness again until he felt long fingers clutching weakly at his shirt.

"Morgan…", the was no color left in Reid´s voice, no strength to it at all.

It was time they got out of here.

"It´s alright.", Morgan told him soothingly, smoothing out his hair without thinking: "Let´s not argue about that. I think you need to sit still now. Save your energy for when we get out of here."

They were silent for a long time, so long in fact that when Reid finally gathered the strength to reply, Morgan had already almost forgotten what he´d said.

"So… I suppose you have a cunning plan then?", Reid inquired dryly, his tone bordering on acidic. He likely was still upset, and even more likely too exhausted to keep fighting. So instead he vented his frustration in cynicism: "Well, I hope it doesn't involve me walking."

Morgan refused to let himself be bothered by Reid´s mood. It was understandable.

"Come on, man, have a little faith.", he tried to sound cheerful: "And if I have to carry you -I will get you out of here, I promise."

That actually made the young doctor chuckle slightly. It sounded bitter.

"You can't even get yourself out of here.", he then murmured without glee, touching Morgan's arm that was still chained to the wall. He didn't even sound resentful anymore, just tired and lost.

"Hotch said he´d send an ambulance.", Morgan said before he could stop himself.

It was all he had been able to think of right then. It might be cruel giving Reid hope when he didn't trust Hotch´s word as far as he could throw him, but it was all he had left.

Sure enough, he felt Reid let out a little sigh of relief then, his body relaxing minimally. Only a second later though, Reid´s mind processed what he´d heard and his breath hitched.

"So…he´s not coming back then…?"

"I don't think so."

"What about Jack?", Reid asked worriedly.

"He…said he was going to get him and then leave the state.", Morgan answered truthfully.

"Oh, no.", Reid immediately moaned in despair, burying his head deeper into Morgan's jacket: "God, no…"

"Hey, I'm sure it´ll be okay, pretty boy."; Morgan was quick to say, cursing himself for even mentioning it: "Hotch won't hurt his own kid. You said it yourself; he just wants to protect him."

"That doesn't mean I want to see my theory tested on Jack!", Reid gasped frightfully, his voice shaking again.

"He won't hurt him. He won't.", Morgan repeated, trying to calm him down. Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut, for crying out loud?

"He wouldn't hurt you because you're his friend. He loves his son more than anything. Jack will be safe."

He didn't know how much of those words he´d aligned before Reid finally started listening.

"Yeah… you´re right.", the young man finally let himself be convinced: "Hotch will do the right thing. He´s not a bad person…If we never find him…maybe –instead of the murders- we can try to remember _that_ as the last thing he did, saving Jack and making sure we are saved as well…"

"Yeah, maybe.", Morgan murmured, smiling as Reid finally relaxed some. Maybe.

In that moment the door swung open, banging loudly against the wall. They both jumped when the harsh light was suddenly switched on again and heavy steps hurried down the stairs.

Despite the pain, Morgan forced his eyes open –only to look into the black eyes of one furious Aaron Hotchner.

"YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! You stole my son!", he yelled beyond reason as he stalked towards them, a mad glint in his eye: "YOU´LL PAY FOR THAT!"


	12. Chapter 12

It was five minutes after the SWAT team had left Hotch´s house, three minutes since JJ had broken down on the couch next to Jessica and one minute after Rossi had inwardly declared their case as a lost one, when his phone rang.

They all jumped at the sound disrupting the women's quiet sniffling in the otherwise silent house.

Rossi was briefly confused as to who would call him on his work phone. After all, everyone who could or would was in this room with him. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the name on the display.

Aaron Hotchner.

For a moment he was so shocked that he didn't know how to react. He had expected Aaron to be halfway to Mexico by now, or cornered by their SWAT team at best –but he would never have expected to hear from his former friend again.

Before his fingers could betray him he answered the call, his knuckles white from where he clutched the phone too tightly.

"Aaron.", he said quietly. Not a question, a statement. Around him, the others seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, staring at him wide eyed, mouths agape.

Hotch´s voice sounded strained and spent under the fury that overlapped most of everything else: "You´ve made a mistake, Dave.", he growled: "Coming into my house, waiting to set me up…I had hoped more of our friendship."

"Well, Aaron, I had hoped for you not to turn out to be a serial killer but I didn't get that either.", Rossi replied casually, even though he felt anything but.

But no matter how he felt personally, he couldn´t let it get in the way of his job. He was a brilliant negotiator, and an even better profiler. He could manipulate anyone –including Aaron Hotchner. He just had to keep him talking.

"We just want to talk to you, Aaron.", he tried, reassuringly: "We know this is Foyet´s fault and we want to help you cope. But you have to come in for that first."

"I'm not an idiot, Dave."; Hotch sneered, clearly not convinced: "You have armed forces chasing me!"

Rossi hesitated, not sure how to react to someone who clearly wasn't up for a rational discussion. Before he could say anything though, Hotch continued harshly: "I know you think of me as just another UnSub now. But it doesn't matter if you understand my motives or not, you will still try to hunt me down and lock me up. But that's not going to happen because I am needed. There are just too many sinners out there. I'm the only one who can punish them properly. But I understand that I cannot do that here anymore due to our blinded system. So I will leave. But not without Jack."

Rossi took a deep breath, refusing to let the obvious disturbance in his friend´s mind get to him and trying to remain as calm as any negotiator would.

"Jack isn't here, Aaron.", he answered calmly only to be yelled at again. Hotch´s control seemed to be worn extremely thin –if he had any left.

"He was with Jessica and Jessica was with you!", Hotch yelled: "Don't lie to me, Dave. I want my son!"

"Aaron, you have to think.", Rossi tried to reason. He was only glad that they had transported Jack to a safe house so that at least he would be safe. Now all he had to do was try to save what was left of the Hotch he knew. And of Reid and Morgan -if there was in fact anything left to save.

"Even if I agreed that what you're doing is necessary and right.", he bartered: "Do you want to take Jack along and constantly put him at risk, being so close to criminals?"

Instead of making his colleague thoughtful his words only served to anger him further: "Don't tell me what I can and can´t do! I will protect him. Just like I always have."

Rossi bit his lip. Perhaps now would be a good time to pose the question that had been gnawing at him ever since he picked up the phone. He would risk setting Hotch off even more, but he had to know nonetheless.

"I wish I could believe that.", he replied slowly, carefully choosing his words: "But after what happened with Reid and Morgan…"

"What are you talking about?", Hotch interrupted him, clearly irritated, but in a good way, like he felt insulted by what Rossi was implying. There was a long pause in which Rossi held his breath, scared to even hope.

When Hotch spoke again he sounded seriously offended: "Nothing happened with them. I will let them leave once I'm safely away with Jack. Like I told you: I just want to protect the ones I care about."

As silently as he could, Rossi let out a sigh of relief, praying that he could believe Hotch in his condition. He sounded honest enough, but how often had they dealt with people who were honestly convinced they hadn't committed their crimes? Still, it was weak flicker of hope he chose to latch on to.

"So they're alive?", he asked breathlessly.

"Of course they are.", Hotch growled crossly, sounding his most sane ever since he had called: "Morgan is being a pain but he is busy now tending to Reid."

That brought back to mind the blood in Jack Mortinson´s living room and the old agent cringed. "What is his condition?"

"He needs to see a hospital soon.", Hotch actually seemed a bit worried at that, a paradox considering he had put Reid into that position in the first place. Yet, if he felt remorse, Rossi thought, it would give them an angle to work, to get him to give up.

"Then why don't you let him go to one, Aaron?", he asked, careful not to sound demanding: "I know you care too much about the kid to let anything else happen to him..."

"He´ll be fine.", Hotch cut him off gruffly, his calm already gone already: "He will see a doctor once _I_ see Jack."

"You´re willing to put his life on the line to get what you want?". Rossi decided to make it a little clearer just what was on the line here. He didn't receive an answer.

Obviously, Aaron wasn't himself, even if it appeared so at times. Whichever part of him still cared, it wasn't strong enough to save their friends. They had to get Reid and Morgan out themselves.

"Aaron, be sensible."; he was almost pleading now, not knowing what else to try: "You have to think of yourself now before you can take care of Jack. You need to come in and let us help you. You won't be alone in this!"

There was more silence and for a moment Rossi dared to hope that he had broken through Hotch´s resolve. Then though, he could almost hear the man shake his head through the line.

"No.", he said, sounding almost desperate: "Jack won't lose another parent. I can't leave him."

Jack. It all came down to Jack.

He was what grounded Hotch, in fact the only thing still connecting him to his humanity. He couldn't get around that. But he could try to be a little harsher: "He will only lose you if the SWAT finds you before us. I know that a hospital isn't the most fun place for a kid to visit, but it's better than a graveyard!"

It was too much. It was the only thing he had had left to try but it pushed Hotch over the edge, alienation him instead of soften him up.

"You say that again when Morgan asks you why you did nothing to save Reid!", he hissed.

And with that he hung up, his enraged accusation the last sane thing Rossi would hear from him during their investigation.

The old profiler stood in his spot for a long moment, taking a much needed breath, judging himself, trying to see if he could have done more, gotten another outcome. What it came down to was that there was nothing to put up against insanity.

"He´s losing touch with reality completely now.", he then told the anxious women grimly: "Usually we would have some time in which he is still relatively sane, but with Jack´s loss there is no saying how deep he´s going to fall and if he´s going to snap out of it at all this time. We have no time to lose: We need to find Morgan and Reid."

That was all the incentive the remaining agents needed to storm out the door and not stop running until they had found what they were looking for.

* * *

Hotch hung up the phone, anger and apprehension boiling inside of him. Ever since he had learned that his former friends had set him up, that they had taken his son, he could not seem to come down. He could not concentrate on anything other than Jack and the need to get an outlet for the aggression building up inside of him. He needed…

"_Aaron, he needs to know you weren't always so serious. Promise me." _

"_Daddy, where's mommy?" _

He moaned softly, leaning against a wall when well known images and voices invaded his brain again, making him unable to see past them for a moment. It was happening again. He had barely been able to suppress it while on the phone and now it was getting even worse.

It was pulling him under much more quickly now, and while he would usually have welcomed the oblivion that always left him calm and focused in the end, he had nothing to focus it_ on_ now.

He had let his aggression out on a criminal only hours ago. It wasn't supposed to happen again this quickly. He needed time to think and find a way to save Jack…

"_After I finish you I´ll find that bastard son of yours…"_

_Blood, so much blood._

His fist hit the stone wall with enough force to send a splintering pain through his bones. Hotch cursed under his breath, but felt grateful when he could see the hallway he was standing in again instead of the bloodstained one of his old house.

As he hurried down the hallway to the basement, it was all he could do to hold on to the pain in order not to let the darkness take over completely.

It worked well enough until he entered the basement, switched on the light and saw Derek Morgan staring at him out of bloodshot eyes. The irrational anger he had felt towards Rossi earlier returned full force without a second of warning. The Bureau, his colleagues, the people he had called friends had not only given up on him, they had taken his son from him.

He was vaguely aware that he was running into the room, yelling at Morgan while real images mixed with memories behind the red fog of his vision.

They would pay. Rossi, Morgan, everyone. For betraying him and their ideals. For not helping Reid when they could have. For stealing Jack…

He didn't know how he´d gotten there when he found himself right in front of Morgan who had jumped to his feet rather abruptly upon seeing him and backed as far away from Reid as the handcuffs would allow him to.

_Haley´s body was lifeless on the floor, the mother of his child lost forever. Morgan was kneeling over her, shaking his head: "She´s dead, Hotch. She´s gone." _

_And suddenly he was Foyet, grinning up at him evilly: "And so is your son. How´s it feel to be completely alone, Agent Hotchner?"_

And then he was beating him again, ceaselessly, mindlessly, knowing he wouldn't find relief but still unable to stop.

There was blood on his hands long before Foyet´s face turned back into that of Derek Morgan's. Only then did he hear the screams, too.

* * *

Reid had no idea how long he´d been out when he came to.

He remembered wanting to debate his point of view further with Morgan but sheer exhaustion had eventually won him over. He had been blissfully oblivious to his surroundings since then, only waking up briefly sometimes and finding that -thanks to Morgan's embrace - he wasn't freezing for the first time in what felt like forever.

It had felt good, safe, despite their situation and somehow numbed the pain and dizziness that were just getting worse with every minute he spent in this cellar. He wouldn't have minded just staying like that for a long time –just lie there in the safety of trusted arms far from and pain and fear.

Maybe that was why he had awoken so suddenly when the warmth surrounding him was abruptly gone; or maybe it was because of the ear shattering noise.

He jerked awake, very aware that he was lying alone on the cold concrete floor. Morgan was gone and the harsh light above was almost as blinding as the darkness before.

Panicking for a moment he looked around frantically, only to find that Morgan had gotten up and retreated to the very end of the pipe he was chained to. He was standing there opposite of a suddenly reappeared Hotch –or crouching by the wall to his feet, to be more accurate.

Only then did Reid´s mind put the yelling and crunching sounds into context. Hotch was beating him so fervently and brutally that it immediately brought back the image of Jack Mortinson´s death. Why wasn't Morgan defending himself, for Christ's sa- oh, God, because he was still tied up…

This time Reid´s panic was out of fear for nothing less than Morgan's life when he started screaming at Hotch to stop. Or croaked, to be more accurate, since his vocal chords wouldn't cooperate at first. He struggled to get up but found it even harder than just hours before; his whole body felt like it was made of lead. He was burning up with fever.

Right then though, Reid could have cared less about that. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see Morgan meet Mortinson´s gruesome fate

"Stop it!", he tried again, louder this time, only to be ignored: Hotch!"

Neither agent acknowledged him, and Reid was beginning to wonder if Hotch could even hear him in his current state of delusion. Who knew what he was seeing right now. It certainly wasn't Morgan, otherwise he wouldn't be doing this. - Would he?

Reid gagged when he heard another snapping sound, immediately followed by Morgan's scream of agony.

"STOP! You're killing him!", he cried, cringing when he thought he heard another bone cracking. He was vaguely aware that he was crying again, but didn't bother trying to suppress it. Like it mattered now…

Morgan went down for good, only his left arm dangling in the air where it was held in place by the cuffs. His face was already swollen and bruising up, with blood smeared over it from a gash on his temple. He was in really bad shape, hardly even able to defend himself at all because of the way he was restrained.

_And because_ he was more concerned about keeping Hotch away from Reid than himself, Reid realized. That's why he had moved away, to keep him safe. Reid thought he was going to be sick at the notion that Morgan could die and it would be his fault.

Hotch lifted his fist again, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

"STOP!", Reid screamed at the top of his lungs, making all three of them flinch.

His burning lungs made him immediately regret the action but Hotch finally did hesitate, turning around ever so slowly. His eyes flickered over Reid with an unidentifiable expression, one that could either be recognition or simply irritation.

"Please stop.", he gasped, desperate to keep his attention: "He didn't do anything to you! You have to remember who we are, Hotch, you have to remember who you are!" He practically begged, anxious to get it out while he was still conscious. Still he was trying to at least push himself up on his elbows to get his shoulders off the ground.

At his words, Hotch´s face scrunched up in anger: "I know who I am! _You_ were supposed to be my friends, and now that I only have one thing left to live for you take that away from me too!"

He took an angry step towards Reid, but was immediately grabbed from behind by Morgan. "Reid didn't take Jack, and you know it! Come on, man, I don't think were done here!", he provoked him, trying to shift his attention.

Reid wouldn´t have any of it: "Morgan, stop it. I know what you're doing and I'm not going to let you." He turned to look up at Hotch who easily shrugged off Morgan's hands and now walked over to him hesitantly. He still looked suspicious but not nearly as livid as before. Maybe Morgan´s words had registered somehow…

Reid saw his chance and took it: "Please, you know how much it hurts to lose a loved one, please don't do that to me…" This got him a confused look from both agents but he didn't allow himself to waver now: "I mean this, Hotch, I can't lose Morgan. I love him just as much as you love Jack."

He refused to meet Morgan´s eyes when the man gasped for air, instead keeping them locked on Hotch´s expression.

"Jack.", Hotch repeated absentmindedly. His gaze became glassy as though he was looking through Reid all out of a sudden. Reid held his breath, praying his plan would work. Morgan was completely forgotten in his part of the basement.

"Oh, Jack…", Hotch gripped his head, his face contorting into a mask of pain and confusion. He was shaking his head with his eyes screwed shut tightly, as though he was trying to block out something only he could hear. Slowly, he sunk down the cellars wall…

"_Please, I want him to believe in love. It's the most important thing."_

"Jack.", he moaned again, caught up in his vivid memories.

His eyes shot open when cold fingers suddenly touched the back of his hand gingerly, as though they feared he would lash out. Reid was half lying on his side, beads of sweat on his forehead from the effort to crawl over to where Hotch was sitting.

Still, he bit back any noise that might betray his condition and laid all the emotion he could muster into his eyes. If that couldn't convince Hotch then nothing would.

"It´s alright.", he whispered softly, squeezing his boss´ hand: "Foyet is gone. It´s safe."

Hotch stared at him for a moment with glassy eyes, before he lifted a hand to carefully push Reid´s damp hair out of his face.

_Light brown hair, sprinkled with drops of blood brushed his neck as he lifted Jack out of his desk. His hands were shaking so badly that he feared he would drop him._

"_Daddy, what´s happened to you?" _

"Jack…I´m so sorry…"

Gentle fingers were wrapped around his trembling ones in a gesture of comfort and reassurance; he looked down into soft, blue eyes.

Was it really safe? Could it be over? He wanted nothing more than to believe that…

"Don't be.", the boy said: "It's not too late yet. It can all end now. I'm perfectly fine; you don't have to avenge me. It´s all good…"

"No.", Hotch shook his head frightfully and his hand wrapped around Reid´s wrist so tightly that he winced: "No, it will never be safe, we can't stay, not unless I kill everyone who…"

"Alright.", Reid quickly cut in, appeasing: "You´re right. We can just leave here. Go somewhere safe and never have to think of all those horrible things again. Yes?"

"Yes.", Hotch nodded, immensely relieved and grateful when his frazzled brain made sense of those words. Yes, they could leave all this behind. He could still save Jack.

He cradled the boy in his arms carefully, finally feeling some of his tension and distraught disappear to be replaced by a soothing calm. No, it was not too late yet.

Reid moaned at the pain shooting through his body when Hotch shifted him into his arms, picking him up from the ground.

He heard Morgan gasp somewhere behind them when he realized what was happening.

Not that it mattered now. Morgan could scream all he wanted, Hotch would not focus on anything but Jack right now –and Reid would make sure it stayed that way until they were so far gone that Hotch would never reach Morgan again.

His head fell limply again Hotch´s shoulder as he let himself be carried to the door.

It didn't matter what happened to him, he was already as good as dead. This was the best outcome they could still hope for, and he was glad that at least Morgan would get out of this unharmed.

It stung a little when Derek screamed his name over and over: It was muffled by his own drowsiness and the rattling of the handcuffs as Morgan was trying to get free and run after them, but it still hurt to listen to his threats and pleas to both him and Hotch.

"Come back here, damn it! Reid, don't do this, it's insane! Reid! Hotch! Fucking let him go, you bastard! REID!"

"I'm sorry.", Reid murmured into Hotch´s shirt, too weak to even lift his head and take a last look at Morgan.

He wished he could, but it was likely better this way anyway. He should remember him with a smiling face, not one contorted in agony and horror.

"REID!"

But sorry he was nonetheless.

For so many things. For saying things he shouldn't have and for not saying things he should have. Now it was too late.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey there! Soooo glad I got this one finished rather quickly. **

**Well, it is like 2:28 AM here, so quickly is relative but anyway...this one´s rather short but i did mange to squeeze in some drama anyway. :-)**

**also: i know i´ve neglected thanking all you wonderful people for commenting on my story so frequently. So, big sorry and an even bigger THANX! I´m happy to write this for you.**

* * *

Morgan screamed until his lungs threatened to give out. His whole body was shaking from both his substantial injuries and the utter fear that enveloped him.

Only minutes ago, he had been in a compromised position, yes, but content nonetheless; at least then he´d known that Reid was relatively save and in his arms.

Now he was alone after being forced to watch Reid play into Hotch´s delusion and then being taken away from him. He had screamed for Hotch to come back, he had screamed for Reid to stop trying to play the hero but neither had acknowledged him.

He was left chained up in this god forlorn basement who-knew-where surrounded by Reid´s blood and the bitter realization that the young man wouldn't be able to hold up any longer if he didn't get medical attention soon.

Which he wouldn't –considering that Hotch didn't even seem to recall his real name, much less his injuries.

He tried not to fall into a panic but failed miserably. The idea that he might never see Reid alive again cut off his air supply, leaving him dizzy and nauseous.

He stared at the door again as if hoping they might return, only now realizing that it was still open and light flooded the room. Hotch must have left it open now that he´d lost touch with reality so utterly.

Seeing his only chance, Morgan gathered all the strength he had left and started yelling for help at the top of his lungs, praying that the building was close enough to someone who might hear him.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally heard steps on the upper floor. Now all he could do was pray that Hotch hadn't come back.

"Hey! Is there someone up there?", he tried his luck: "Please, I'm down here! Help!"

* * *

Reid knew he must have blacked out at some point, because the last thing he´d seen before he closed his eyes from exhaustion had been Morgan's face. He had tried to keep them open and stay alert, to not give in to the weariness that was dragging him down but in the end he was a ´blinker´.

He remembered saying that same thing to Garcia once.

It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago.

When he opened his eyes now, his first thought was that the world was spinning and that his concussion must be worse than he´d thought. Then, he began to realize that the world was moving outside of his mind as well. He was moving so fast that trees and clouds flew by, making him dizzy.

He tried to focus. It should have been easy considering he didn't feel any pain now, but his thoughts were sticky like honey. He noted that his whole body was covered in cold sweat and that his muscles seemed unnaturally stiff now. So he had been right; he did need a doctor. But instead he got…

A car…he was in a moving car…driving down some deserted street lined by large trees…

Reid felt his heart fall when he didn't recognize his surroundings. So they hadn't stayed in the building with Morgan; Hotch was really leaving and taking him, or Jack to be more precise, along.

He glanced to the side of him to find Hotch behind the wheel calmly looking forward at the road. He hadn't noticed Reid had awoken yet, but he seemed surprisingly calm if not content. For a moment Reid hoped Hotch might have come back to his senses after all, but then he realized that if that were the case they wouldn't be on some road to nowhere right now.

He tried to shift so he could sit up straight in his seat and regretted it immediately when a wave of nausea washed over him. He moaned softly, catching Hotch´s attention after all.

"Hey. You're awake.", the older man smiled kindly, in a way which reminded him oddly of Gideon. A father´s smile…

So unlike his murderous expression down in the basement just…he didn't even know how long ago…

"Wh- ere…?", he croaked, but broke into a coughing fit before he could finish.

He flinched slightly when Hotch´s hand was patting his back surprisingly, but didn't move away. Murderer or not, to Hotch he was Jack –and even if he wasn't safe, it wasn't like he could go anywhere. Literally.

"Don't worry, you can go back to sleep if you want, we´re not there yet.", Hotch told him amiably, clearly oblivious to Reid critical state. He actually seemed fine now that he had his son back. Apart from the complete break from reality obviously.

Reid meant to ask where _there _was, but knew at the same time that it didn't matter.

He wouldn't make it there.

He could feel the blood trickling from his leg wound now that he focused on it; it must have reopened at some point. To make matters worse, the wound was clearly infected, explaining the fever he could feel running through his entire body.

Being cooped up in a stuffy car while being forced into a sitting position didn't help either.

"Stop the car.", Reid demanded faintly, clasping a hand over his mouth.

Hotch threw him a confused side glance. The request had been meant in general but right now, he really felt like he would…

"I'm going to be sick…", he managed to explain before pressing his hand against his lips again but more firmly.

"Oh. Hold on.", Hotch nodded, looking worried now.

He pulled over to the side of the road, then got out and walked around to Reid´s side. Not a second too early, because Reid's legs gave out the second he tried to stand on them and he blacked out for a second. Hotch caught him deftly, easing him to the ground next to the car.

"Easy there.", he said, holding him upright.

It was all Reid could do to move his head to the side before his stomach emptied itself, leaving him with stomach cramps on top of it all. He could practically feel his jaw locking already from the beginning tetanus infection.

So if he didn't die of blood loss, bacteria would finish the job…

He felt his heart cramp up as well at the idea that he would never be able to go home, to see his home and his friends and his mother again. Morgan. He would never find him here.

He would die alone on some deserted road side. Reid suddenly felt like crying but found that he was even too exhausted for that.

Oblivious to all this, Hotch smoothed his hair back while Reid tried to catch his breath.

He hissed when his fingers touched the younger man´s forehead.

"You're burning up.", he stated, like Reid hadn't noticed himself.

Reid actually couldn't help but smile bitterly at that. It seemed ironic in a way that the man that had always represented safety to him would not even be able to recognize the danger he was in now. In the end, no one would be able to hurt him as long as Hotch was with him but it would be of no use at all. He would be guarded and well protected and dead.

"Worse, I´m dying.", he said more to himself than Hotch, unsure if it would even register with his former boss. It was true, too. Maybe not right away, but in a day or two.

He was surprised when Hotch´s grip on him tightened almost painfully and he was pulled around to face the other man.

He tried to return his gaze but couldn't seem to even keep his head up. It fell back limply, Hotch´s arms the only thing holding his body upright by now.

"No! Please, you can't.", Hotch sounded honestly terrified at the thought, all calm gone in an instant. His expression now was much like the one he´d worn the day his wife had died.

"I can´t help it.", Reid murmured for some reason, he somehow felt like he had to justify his state even though it was anything but his decision: "I can´t help myself…"

"No.", Reid moaned when Hotch shook him again, pressing his eyes shut for a moment: "Don't you understand, I can't live without you, I need you!"

"Then get me help.", Reid knew it would probably have just as little effect as the times before but he had to try one last time: "Get me to a hospital before it's too late."

Hotch bit his lip, looking truly scared and conflicted; his fingers flexed and unflexed on Reid´s arms: "But…then they´ll…I'll lose you…"

Reid put his hand upon Hotch with the last strength he could muster trying to stay focused enough to look him in the eyes: "No…you won't…I promise you won't lose me, wherever you are, I won't leave you alone if I can…but if I die…"

Hotch stared down at him for a long time, lips and hands trembling and authentic tears in his eyes.

Finally he crumbled, his head falling into the crook of Reid´s neck heavily as he practically crushed him with his embrace. "I'm so sorry…it's all my fault…"; he wept. For a moment Reid wasn't sure if he was talking to Jack anymore or maybe him…but then he realized it didn't matter. He could feel his body going numb now, the edges of his vision darkening rapidly.

Even if Hotch decided to help him –it would be too late now.

So he did all he had left in him. He squeezed Hotch´s hand one more time, forcing a smile on his dry lips: "It's okay…I understand…"

He wasn't sure if it were his´ or Hotch´s tears that fell onto his cheeks just before darkness took him into its embrace, gently leading him away.

* * *

"Damnit, Rossi! I said I'm fine!"

Morgan was fuming as he swatted away the hands of the medic that was tending to his more urgent wounds.

He jumped to his feet and stalked over to his older colleague: "You hear me? I'm not letting some little scratch keep me from saving Reid!"

Rossi bit back a frustrated sigh as he let Morgan vent his anger.

It was understandable, he was probably in shock.

Not three hours ago they had received a call from a local police station stating that Agent Morgan had been found. He had been in the basement of an abandoned house they had worked a case in some month ago; some girl walking by had apparently heard him screaming and called the police.

It was embarrassing to think that they had not been able to find him, but it wasn't their biggest problem now.

Ever since they had saved Morgan and let him be fixed up by paramedics, all he had been talking about was how Hotch had now lost every last bit of restraint and how badly Reid was hurt.

Both combined made for an explosive duo. They had to find a colleague in mortal danger as well as find another one who was the mortal danger –to everyone he crossed during his escape.

All counties nearby had been notified and choppers were flying over the area to maybe spot Hotch´s car by chance. There wasn't much else they could do to find them. They were untraceable and it was getting dark.

Unfortunately, Morgan wouldn't have any of it. He seemed beyond any reason in his worry, constantly demanding to be let go so he could search for them personally.

Rossi was about to give in –he could practically taste Morgan's anguish -when his phone rang.

He answered it, listening intently for a moment before hanging up and giving the team a grave look.

"They´ve found Hotch."

* * *

**yeah, pretty mean way to stop, i know -but i get a kick out of it...**

**so what do you think how and where they found Hotch? well, stay tuned for next week to find out, lol**


	14. Chapter 14

**First of all: A hundred reviews! OMG! Thank you guys so much, I love you all!**

**Now on to sadder news: This kinda is the last chaper, guys. There will be an epilogue dealing with the ramifictaions but as far as the action goes, this is it. Thats why it´s so long, i didnt want to break it into two more chapters. **

**Now, remember what I said about the slash? I was nice enough to mark the paragraphs in question, so please refrain from flaming (which i know neither of you would do anyway :-) ).**

**Anyway, enjoy the ending...**

* * *

The ride in Rossi´s SUV was mostly silent, full of unaddressed tension and apprehension. Morgan could barely hear the tires screeching over the pounding of his heart as the oldest agent practically raced through the streets.

There was no need to hurry really - there was nothing they could do that hadn't been done by local law enforcement yet.

Still, neither of them objected to the crazy speeding.

They reached their destination in record time and were immediately greeted by the security personnel. Morgan could barely stand to stay still and listen to the men briefing them; he wanted to go in _right now_.

He looked up the grey façade of the huge hospital complex, unable to form one coherent thought past _Reid_.

"He is in the ICU right now.", the officer told them and Morgan's head snapped up after all, getting interested: "Who? Hotch?, he asked tensely.

What might have happened in the short time the two agents were gone?

How had it ended here? No matter how, he wanted to see Hotch right now to find out what had happened to Reid –and to punch him maybe.

The man shot him a strange look, but willingly repeated his statement: "Yes. And no. Your other colleague, Doctor Reid, is in treatment, actually. - The doctors were able to stabilize him but he's in pretty bad shape."

Despite the man´s frown, Morgan felt like a huge weight was lifted from his chest. He took a deep breath in relief. Reid was alive and in the hospital.

"Thank God.", he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. He clenched his trembling fingers into fists and tried not to let it show just how out of it he really was. He had known that Reid would need treatment at best, but at least he was alive, at least he was safe…

Emily next to him briefly squeezed his arm and he shot her a small smile. They had all been worried sick. But now it was over.

He didn't care what had happened, or where Hotch was -as long as Reid was going to be fine.

"Can we go see him?", he asked impatiently, eager to finally get inside.

His unease returned when the man's frown deepened: "As I was about to explain to your colleague, Agent Morgan, we have a bit of a complicated situation here."

He hesitated as if not quite sure how to break it to them and Morgan immediately felt nauseous again.

Why wouldn´t they be allowed to see Reid? Was his condition that critical?

"Start in the beginning.", Rossi suggested to the informer, trying to help him out as well as making him hurry up with his report. He, too, was on edge.

"Well, about an hour ago, a man arrived here in his private car. He carried your unconscious colleague into the ER and yelled for help. The doctors immediately rushed to help him, because he was obviously very sick. The man who brought him in –he was covered in blood you see and we thought it was Doctor Reid´s."

Morgan felt his stomach churn at that notion, fear clamping down on his heart once more. He could only hope that the blood had only been from Reid's leg and not some other, more serious wound.

But who had brought him in? Where had he found him? Had Hotch just left him somewhere to die? He tried to focus on the conversation but it was getting harder by the minute.

"Well, Dr Reid was treated and stabilized immediately…", their contact answered one of Rossi´s questions: "…and it turns out the blood wasn't all his, so at least his external injuries weren't as bad as they seemed at first."

"Did he regain consciousness?", Rossi asked, suddenly looking confused for some reason.

The man shook his head: "Not so far, I'm afraid."

"Then how do you know his name?"

"Oh, one of the nurses recognized him after he was transferred to a room; he was our patient before. So we called his emergency contact at the BAU… who informed you, I suppose."

Rossi nodded, satisfied with the answer for now.

"Alright so if he's fine, then why can't we go in and see him already?", Morgan threw in a little harsher than he´d planned.

"Because…no one really can at the moment.", the man told him, frowning again: "You see, the man who brought him in, he was very reluctant to leave his side and when we tried to make him…he… has a gun…"

All agents stared at him out of wide eyes, not believing what they were hearing. It didn't take them long to realize what exactly must be happening here. Reid´s rescuer wasn't some random guy.

"Hotch?", Rossi gasped incredulously, immediately making the connection: "Our agent…with a gun…?"

His voice was a little too shrill at the end; he, like the others, couldn't believe his own stupidity for thinking this was over yet. Hotch wouldn't have left Reid after he went through so much trouble keeping him with him. Still, he would never have expected _this._

"Was he hurt?", Emily choked out when no one else said anything. She got a headshake in response: "No. The blood was just on his clothes, we are not sure how it got there…"

Rossi and Emily's gazes flickered over to Morgan and the cuts and bruises that had barely been patched up. So at least now they knew whose blood Hotch had had on his clothes.

Their distraction dint last long when they remembered the situation.

"Are you telling me he's in there _with hostages?", _Morgan repeated darkly, clearly as shaken as he was furious. Emily cursed under her breath, suddenly looking pale.

"We are not certain about that…Agent…Hotch, is it?"

"Hotchner."

"Yes, Agent Hotchner was in a very frazzled state of mind when he arrived here. We are not quite sure about his condition but he seems very unstable. He refused to leave Dr Reid´s side and started yelling and waving his gun around when we tried to convince him otherwise. He is letting nurses check on Dr Reid but no one really dares to go in the room without knowing if he might snap…"

"I'm going in there, Rossi.", Morgan suddenly decided without waiting for the end of the report. He was in the middle of getting out his gun when he felt the older man's hand firmly grasping his forearm.

He looked up to find Rossi staring at him intensely: "Now wait a minute, Morgan, we need to…"

"What´s there to wait for?", Morgan snapped at him, losing more of his control by the second: "Every minute we stand here is one more minute that Reid is at the mercy of a trigger happy maniac!"

To his surprise, Rossi snapped right back, losing some of his calm momentarily: "You think you're the only one worried about Reid? We´re all scared for his life! …But still we need to come up with a good strategy; we can't just waltz in there."

He let go of Morgan's arm to rub his eyes exhaustedly.

Emily took over for him: "Plus, think about it, Derek, he brought Reid here at the risk of us finding him, so that indicates that he still cares…about Reid at least…he won't hurt him…"

"He doesn't care about Reid.", Morgan interjected immediately: "There is something I forgot to tell you. When we were in the basement… he referred to Reid as Jack. I think in his delusion he sees Reid as his son. And that´s why he wants to save him."

Rossi nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed in deep thought.

"Alright, if that is the case it can be useful to us, we can work that angle.", he finally decided: Morgan, did he recognize Reid at all while you were in the basement?"

"Right up until the end. Reid played into his delusion…like he had expected it. Maybe it happened before I got there, too…"

He broke off, guilt overcoming him at the realization that he hadn't even noticed. Maybe he could have talked Reid out of it, if…

His train of thought was interrupted when Rossi told him: "Alright then, you're staying here. I'm going in to talk to Hotch."

Morgan's head snapped up and he shook it vehemently, his fists clenched by his sides: "What? No way! I'm going, too!"

Rossi sighed in frustration, wasting another moment by talking his colleague down.

"Morgan, think about it for a moment. Seeing you with Reid might bring him back to the realization that you're both federal agents working to bring people like him down. We need for him to keep believing that Jack is with him."

The mention of endangering Reid further finally seemed to get through to him and after a long moment he finally nodded reluctantly: "Fine, but I'll be right outside that room. And if he even comes near Reid with that gun then I can guarantee but for one thing…"

* * *

Rossi entered the room slowly, pushing the door open bit by bit. He was wearing a bullet proof vest but he still didn't want to risk startling Hotch and being shot in the head.

He could feel Morgan's eyes burning into his back and sighed soundlessly. Kid was a mess, worse even than JJ right now…

The room was quiet except for the shrill beeping of several machines and shallow raspy breaths that had to be Reid's.

He took a step inside, closing the door behind him. Reid was lying in a hospital bed with his eyes closed a face that was frighteningly pale; he was attached to several tubes and apparently unconscious.

Between Rossi and the bed there was a man on a chair, slouched over so that his head was resting on the bed next to Reid´s legs. One of his big hands was clasped firmly around Reid´s smaller, lifeless one.

Rossi´s heart tore at the image. Hotch seemed almost as drawn and exhausted as Reid himself.

"Aaron…", he said softly, wishing there was better way to do this.

Despite his caution, Hotch shot up immediately at the sound of his voice, whirling around. Rossi gulped.

He looked horrible; there were dark shadows under his eyes which were bloodshot and shining in desperate agony and misdirected aggression. He looked like a wounded animal.

An animal with teeth, Rossi thought, when Hotch turned to face him fully, effectively blocking Reid from his view.

Only now could he see the gun that Hotch was holding in his left hand. He didn't point it at him but his fingers clutched it almost as tightly as they had Reid´s hand.

For a moment, they just stared at each other and Rossi was starting to wonder if Hotch even recognized him. How could he best do this?

The last time he´d spoken to Hotch he´d been extremely aggressive and unstable, but so much had changed since then and now he seemed so…lost…

"Aaron.", he repeated, hoping that the long-known voice of a friend would help him come down. Maybe he could_ talk_ him out of this.

When Hotch didn't answer or move in any way, Rossi realized he had to start trying to talk him down like he would a stranger.

"I understand your son is sick?", he smiled empathetically: "Are you taking care of him?"

Hotch eyed him warily for a moment, then, finally the sadness in his expression outweighed his hostility: "Yes. I didn't want to bring him here but I can´t lose him…the doctors say he´s stable, but he needs to stay here for a while…"

He blinked, suddenly looking at Rossi for help it seemed: "Are you a doctor, too? Can you help him?"

So he didn't recognize him. In that moment he was glad Morgan hadn't come with him, this would require a huge amount of tact.

It also seemed like Hotch´s worry for his son had blocked all criminal energy for the moment. Maybe he wasn't even aware he was still holding the gun, or that everyone around him was on high alert…

Thinking quickly, Rossi nodded and took a small step closer, testing his possibilities: "Yes, I'm here to check on him, actually. He might need to have surgery, then we would have to take him…"

"No!", Hotch immediately interjected. He took an angry step towards Rossi, the grip around his gun tightening: "No! He stays with me! You're not taking him away! If you are like those monsters then I…"

"We don't want to do that, Aaron.", Rossi gave in immediately, raising is hands in a placating gesture: "No one wants to hurt Jack –or you. I know you only wanted to help people, you're a good person…And that's why you won't let Jack suffer."

Hotch hesitated, looking truly conflicted now. His anger made way for worry and guilt once more and Rossi knew that was his window of opportunity.

He was bold enough to take another step forward; he thought the heard Emily hiss something like a warning by the door but ignored it. Hotch didn't make way for him as he approached Reid´s bed, but he also didn't point the gun at him.

Taking a chance, Rossi carefully touched Hotch´s arm in a comforting gesture. His friend tensed at the contact; his eyes flickered like he was trying to get order in his thoughts. Maybe like he was feeling that he could trust Rossi, because he felt familiar…

They could only hope.

Rossi looked at Hotch with intense eyes, willing him to see the good will in them: "I know you love Jack more than anything else, Aaron. More than yourself even. I know you will choose to do what's best for him… even if it might not be the most convenient for you."

He had been right.

This wasn't a case for the swat team. Hotch wasn't here to kill anyone else, he was only here for his son.

Hotch´s gaze flickered over his shoulder to where Reid was lying, still completely oblivious to what was happening around him.

"He needs me. I'm his father…", he sounded stricken, like he was torn between reason and emotion.

"He can still see you when he's better."; Rossi told him gently, patting his arm: "But you have to get better, too. Don't you want to be someone he can lean on, a rock to trust in as he grows up?"

Hotch´s face crunched up in hurt, and he closed his eyes as though he was trying to fight back tears. His whole frame suddenly seemed instable, like he was hanging by a threat.

It hurt to see his old friend falling apart like this but Rossi kept a straight face. This was about Reid and Hotch.

He waited patiently for Hotch to regain his composure, hoping that he was really getting through to him. I looked like it. Apparently the fear of losing Jack had him forget about all his other issues and urges for now.

"You think… I can do that?"; Hotch finally asked quietly: "Still, even with what I..?"

Inwardly, Rossi let out a huge sigh of relief. It was working.

"I'm sure of it.", he then said with all the conviction he could muster: "I know you can fight this."

Hotch frowned when he was reminded of how this whole thing has started. His eyes were dark and shiny when he fixed them on his former colleague: "I… still want to kill…those criminals…those monsters…how can I just let them live on?"

"We will take care of them. I promise. We will do our best, we always do. And when you're ready then so will you again –the right way.", Rossi told him. And he almost believed it, too.

Something about his little speech seemed to ring a bell with Hotch because he suddenly blinked, seeming more lucid than just seconds ago.

"Dave?"

"Aaron.", Rossi gave him a smile that was genuinely relieved. It appeared not all was lost yet.

With the realization of who Rossi was, Hotch apparently got back some other memories as well judging by the horrified look on his face.

"Oh, God."; he gasped, suddenly grasping Rossi´s hand on his arm: "Don't tell him…don't tell Jack…he won't understand why I had to do it…not until I've explained…"

"Of course not.", Rossi agreed reassuringly: "When he is old enough you can tell him yourself."

That finally seemed to calm Hotch enough for now.

He took a long deep breath, before the tension drained from his posture, leaving him almost sunken into himself. He looked ten years older than just two days ago.

Still, he nodded, finally agreeing with Rossi´s suggestion: "Please help him as best as you can."

He turned and looked back to the bed for a long time, weighing his options. Losing his freedom or losing his son´s life. Rossi wondered how he could not see Reid in there.

Finally, Hotch turned back to him: "Can I… say goodbye to him?"

"Of course.", Rossi smiled gently.

He reached out for Hotch´s other arm, subtly prompting him to give up his gun first: "Why don't I hang on to that for you, so Jack won't be startled if he wakes up."

He thanked the gods when Hotch actually did as he asked without much hesitation. The sigh of relief from the hallway could practically be heard through the doors.

He took a moment to breathe out, just standing there while Hotch turned around and walked over to Reid´s bed, whispering choked words of reassurance that fell on deaf ears.

He was still standing there when Emily stormed in with some security guards, arresting Hotch and leading him outside.

He didn't move when doctors and nurses rushed in to make sure Reid was still alright, checking his vitals.

It was only when Morgan practically broke down next to Reid´s bed, uncaring of who was watching, his bulky, shaking frame burying the young man underneath him, that he averted his eyes and left the room.

* * *

( Slashy from this point on –just a friendly warning. It´s just sap anyway, you may stop reading here, the lines above are just as good an ending.)

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Reid´s body felt icy and feverish hot at the same time when he opened his eyes, only to blink against the harsh light hurting him. The only part of his body that had a pleasant temperature was his left hand.

He forced his eyes open a bit more to see dark fingers around his.

"Morgan?", he rasped, startled by the sound of his own voice.

He didn't know where he was or how he´d gotten there, but if Morgan was here he knew there was no reason to worry.

Immediately, Morgan's face was hovering over his, regarding him with happiness mixed with underlying worry: "Hey there, pretty boy, you with me this time?"

Reid blinked again, this time in confusion.

"What…?"; he croaked, trying to sit up so he could see better and maybe understand what was going on. Strong hands gently pushed him back into the pillows, resting on his shoulders just a little while longer than usual.

Reid didn't resist. He was much too tired; plus, the warmth radiating from Morgan's skin was actually very soothing. It felt nice.

"Don't get up.", Morgan told him gently but firmly:; "You're in the hospital, Reid. You're pretty messed up but they're taking care of you now."

Hospital? His mind reeled, trying to put back the puzzle pieces whirling around in his head that surely contained his memories of how he´d gotten here. How had he ended up in a hospital, feeling so utterly sore and drained?

He gasped when the memory returned rather suddenly, tensing under Morgan's hands: "Hotch."

It was more of a question than it was a statement.

"He brought you here when he realized you were dying.", Morgan explained, his voice somehow sounding a little harder when he said Hotch´s name.

Slowly, Reid nodded. "I remember. We were in the basement, then he thought I was Jack and I let him…"

"Right."; Morgan growled: "And you´ll be in a world of trouble for that stunt once you're better."

Reid chuckled wryly. All the fear and desperation they´d felt just hours ago seemed a million miles away right now. This room felt safe and comfortable despite his aching body.

But as much as he just wanted to forget all about their abduction and move on, he had to ask: "What happened…to Hotch?"

He could practically hear Derek frown at his question, but got an answer anyway. Morgan even tried to sound neutral, knowing that Reid would be worried about Hotch even now.

"Rossi got him to give up with the promise that he could still see Jack once he was better. They have taken him to the mental ward for now, to do some testing…"

Reid nodded slowly, trying not to feel the sting of those words. He had known this might happen, it was even the best case scenario –but it still hurt to think of Hotch in that position.

"Did he realize I wasn't Jack?", he asked.

Morgan shook his head: "I don't think so. But you don't need to worry about that, he won't get to you anymore."

He sounded a little too cheery to be real, hopeful almost that Reid would agree with him for once. But of course he couldn't, as much as he wanted to spare the other man grief.

"I…I think I should see him when we´re both better.", he said, his voice soft but determined: "To help him through this…"

"Reid.", Morgan's voice sounded as exhausted as it had in the basement, bordering on irritation: "He could have killed you…have you forgotten about that already?"

There was only one thing that Reid remembered clearly: "He was going to kill _you_."

Morgan sighed, his forehead crunching up slightly as he looked at the younger man: "But he didn't - because of you. Because of…what you said…"

He seemed a little flustered saying the last part and Reid immediately blushed deeply.

"Oh, that I love you… you haven't forgotten, huh?", he rubbed his head, looking up at Morgan with a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment: "Well, I guess that was a bad moment to come out with that but I didn't have much of a choice, you know, and besides…"

He faltered a little when Morgan just stared at him, suddenly looking scared: "Uhm…you can just ignore it…I really wouldn't want it to stand between us…so could you…"

Morgan's mouth had hung open for the better part of Reid´s rambling but now he regained his speech quickly. His heart -which had skipped a beat -resumed its duty just in time to start racing madly.

"Wha…? Wait a minute there.", he interrupted Reid, looking at him intently: "I meant when you pretended to be Jack. I…when you said you loved me I didn't think you meant it… like that…I…"

Now he was stuttering, too, and blushing - which luckily wasn't as visible on his features as on Reid´s. He just couldn't believe this was actually happening.

Reid actually loved him? Him?

Just when he thought his heart would burst with sudden joy, he saw Reid´s face fall and realized what he´d just said. And what he should have said instead.

"Reid?", he asked softly.

He received no answer. Reid had turned away from him as best as he could and Morgan could barely make out his burning cheeks under the curtain of light hair covering his face.

He was trembling and this time it wasn't exhaustion, but fear of driving Morgan away: "Oh God, I'm…just forget what I said…it's the anesthesia…"

Morgan, who had been to dazed by his own happiness, realized he needed to let Reid off the hook quickly, even if he wasn't certain he´d really meant what he´d said…

So he took a chance and reached out to tip up the younger man´s chin and make him look at him again. Reid´s eyes were shiny and he looked honestly scared of the consequences of his accidental confession.

"_Is_ it the drugs?", Morgan asked quietly, neither breaking their eye contact nor his hold on Reid´s chin as he spoke. Inwardly, he feared the answer but he had to be sure anyway.

Reid gave him a conflicted, almost frightful look and Morgan could make out the struggle behind his eyes and trembling lips. He let out a shaky breath, then finally, he shook his head minimally.

"No.", he whispered, his voice cracking: "…I was so scared I´d lose you..I didn't realize…but when I thought you'd die..I don't know what I would have done…"

He was crying before either of them had realized it, shaking with every choked out word. The shock of what had happened was catching up to him after all. They should have expected it.

While Reid suddenly lost control, Morgan sat by in astonishment as well as worry and couldn't think of but one thing to help him calm down in this situation. He could try to talk him down, convince him that they were both alive and safe, that everything was alright –or he could show him.

So he simply gave in to his instincts and leaned over the bed slowly, never taking his eyes of the other man´s. Reid stilled when he realized what was happening, staring at him wide-eyed with his breath hitching, yet unmoving.

And then their lips were touching like it was the most natural thing in the world, barely brushing against each other at first.

Morgan felt a tiny electric jolt go through his body as he did what he had dreamed off for so long, finding that it was even greater than expected. Especially since Reid wasn't pulling away.

On the contrary, after a moment he even leaned into Morgan, showing without a doubt that he wanted this, too, and Morgan didn't have to be asked twice to deepen the kiss.

His hand slipped from Reid´s chin to cup the side of his neck, pulling him closer still, fingers in his unruly hair. They stayed sunken in each other for a small eternity, each reveling in the new sensation and blissful distraction from their ordeal.

It was only when they heard someone clearing their throat by the door that they separated, both slightly flushed and more than a little startled.

"Well, well, well.", Emily grinned from where she was leaning at the frame: "If it isn't a happy ending…to think we almost missed that."

JJ mustered a small giggle next to her, smiling for what seemed like the first time in days.

"I wouldn't have minded.", Rossi murmured from behind them, but he was also smiling slightly.

He entered the room with the women at his sides, smiling fondly at Reid after Morgan reluctantly let go off him: "I´m glad you´re alright, kid. We all are."

"Yeah, I'm fine now.", Reid smiled back, his hand reaching out to hold Morgan's for everyone to see: "In fact, I´m great."

* * *

The End.

**Now, before you get in my hair about how this story can't have a completely happy ending with what happened to Hotch: You're right of course, and there will be an epilogue dealing with his future.**

**I just wanted for Morgan (and Reid) to be happy after that horrible ordeal. I'm not great with romance so I hope it wasn't too sappy. And I hope you stick around for the last part.**

**In case you're not planning to: Thank you for reading this story, I had a grand time writing it.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Final Chapter. **

**Please Review, I promise you won´t need to again –not for this story anyways :-)**

* * *

Epilogue.

Three Months Later.

* * *

"Are you sure you still want to do this?"

Reid smoothed out his unruly hair in order to hide his unease, smiling calming in contrast to how he really felt: "Yes, Derek. We talked about this, remember?"

They were standing in one of the hallways of the same hospital that they had first kissed in just three months ago. There had been many more kisses after that, kisses that almost made them worth the ordeal they had gone through to get together.

This time though, it was a different wing of the hospital and the only thing Morgan did with his lips was frown.

Just around the corner was a room that Reid had been to several times after his recovery.

The sign on the door said _Aaron Hotchner_, a painful mockery of the one he´d had in his office at the BAU.

Reid was a little on edge, just like he always was coming here, and Morgan's objections weren't exactly helping him.

"I'm just saying I'm not comfortable letting you walk in there all by yourself every time.", Morgan continued, stepping up to him.

His large hands gripped Reid´s upper arms just firmly enough to pull him closer.

Reid sighed and stood very still as his boyfriend gave him a worried look, his caressing thumbs on his arms barely enough to not make it seem like he was trying to physically hold him back.

There was no one to see them in the corridor, so Reid let him have this moment; he knew that every time he went to see their former boss Morgan was painfully reminded of how he had almost killed them both.

"There´s a security guard right by the door.", he said softly, trying to reassure the older man: "Plus, you´re right here."

When the frown still wouldn't leave Morgan's face, he stood on tiptoes and kissed him shortly but softly. That had yet to fail in getting a smile out of his lover.

And really, Morgan chuckled dryly, pressing his forehead against Reid´s for a second before letting him go and taking a step back.

"That's right, pretty boy. I´ll be right here.", the warmth and promise in his eyes almost suppressed the dread lurking behind them.

"I´ll be quick.", Reid promised. Then he turned around and took the corner before he could change his mind.

The guard assigned to the whole corridor was just passing Hotch´s room and he nodded to Reid when he saw him. He had seen him several times before.

"Visiting, Dr. Reid?", he smiled neutrally, stopping next to him.

Reid nodded: "I am…Do you know…has there been any change in his condition?"

The man shrugged apologetically: "You'll have to ask his doctor…but not from what I can tell, no."

Reid nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show too much.

It had been three months since Hotch was brought here, and nothing much had changed since then. He wasn't aggressive anymore –at least during Reid´s visits, and he was getting help with his delusions, but he still didn't recognize Reid as his coworker.

The doctors had told him that the connection to his son was Hotch´s life line and it would be the hardest to sever. It would have to come last, after he was fine on all other levels.

And until then, Reid would return time after time. No matter what others thought about it. Including Morgan.

Reid sighed, thinking about all his fruitless visits here. Each time Morgan had accompanied him and every time they got into the same argument just before parting. Morgan never let Reid come here alone, his discomfort at the idea of him visiting Hotch clearly visible in every one of his mimics and gestures.

Still, Reid had not let himself be deterred. He had made a promise to not leave Hotch alone until he was well enough to return to his life. And that day had not come yet.

"Do you want to talk to him in the community room?", the guard asked, but Reid shook his head.

He wasn't planning on staying that long. He and Morgan had dinner plans.

"No, I´ll just quickly say hello here if that's okay."

The man nodded: "Of course, Dr. Go right in."

Reid took a deep breath before stepping up to the door and opening it carefully. He could feel the guard´s immediate presence behind him; Hotch wasn't allowed to have unsupervised visits to his room.

And no civilian visitors at all for that matter. He was technically still considered a risk after killing six people.

Even his son hadn't been allowed here, but they had come to the consensus anyway that it was better if he stayed with Jessica for now. He shouldn't have to see his father like that.

And even if his real son managed to break Hotch´s delusion, he wouldn't be able to give him the comfort and support that Reid did now.

No, it was better this way for now.

Hotch was sitting on a white bed by the wall with his knees drawn to his chest, his clothes the same color as the sheets. He looked healthy than just weeks ago, but he wasn't the same man he´d known back at Quantico. Even now.

The moment Reid walked into the room, Hotch´s face lit up and he practically jumped off the bed to greet him. Reid hoped his smile looked authentic as he let his former boss pull him into a tight hug.

The guard behind them shuffled his feet nervously but Reid just shot him a reassuring look. He wasn't worried that Hotch might hurt him. Now less than ever.

"I missed you.", Hotch murmured into his ear, the hand at the back of his head making it impossible for Reid to move much. He let Hotch be for another moment before carefully disentangling himself.

They both sat on the edge of the bed then, falling easily into their routine. Reid asked some questions about Hotch treatment and well being while the older man held his hand and called him Jack.

"How are those medications making you feel?", Reid asked, for the dozens time wondering just how Hotch could even uphold his delusion when his alleged five year old talked like a college professor.

"I´m better. I´m starting to feel calmer these days, more like myself…", Hotch told him earnestly.

"That's great.", Reid smiled: "I´m sure you're making good progress."

Hotch nodded, smiling back at him: "I´m trying really hard to work with them, so it won't have to be too long anymore till I can come home. I know I've left you all alone and I worry every day…"

"It´s okay."; Reid squeezed his hand reassuringly: "You don't need to worry about me."

Hotch´s eyebrows pulled together then like he was in pain and he pulled the young man into another half-hug.

When he spoke again his voice was all but a little bit choked: "You're so strong, Jack. Just a little bit longer and I promise I´ll be strong for you again…I promise…"

Reid allowed himself to briefly close his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

He lightly patted Hotch´s back, just sitting there with him: "Take all the time you need. And when you´re better, I will still be waiting."

And that he would. No matter how long it would take.

* * *

_The End_

**

* * *

****snif, not a happy ending per se...but there is hope at least. anyways, this is it for this story. **

**i hope you were mostly satisfied with the way it turned out. **

**thank you all so much for sticking with me through the whole thing. let me know how you liked it, please.**


End file.
